Refuge
by DuckiePray
Summary: Five months after "Redemption", the turtles are caught in the wake of two disasters, which leave them questioning what they've always believed in. Will they find the hope to stand against impossible odds, and support a brother in his most dire need?
1. Disturbance

***Here we go again, my friends. I received the inspiration for Refuge last year, while I was still in the process of releasing Redemption. It's a good thing I started writing it while still posting the other fic, because this story took on a life of it's own like none before it. For those of you who didn't get enough of Michelangelo in Redemption, take heart. This is HIS story, from start to finish. Refuge follows in a series of stories I've posted over a couple of years, but have no fear if you aren't familiar with my other fics. Yes, I have a lot of OC's, but I promise I'll catch you up if you give me a chance.**

**A big thanks goes out to my beta readers on this project, Mikell and sait4soreeyes. Your refining makes me a better writer, and I'm grateful you took the journey with me. Also thanks to Candice and Tonya for following me on Facebook, and offering encouragement along the way. There are several disasters and cliff-hangers in Refuge, but the crux of this story isn't suspense. It's the cry of my own heart and I think that of so many others, who are looking for a safe place in the midst of the storms of life. In that sense it has become a very personal piece of work to me...and I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

><p>Blue eyes shot open as Michelangelo startled himself awake. His chest heaved painfully with the wracking cough that wasn't letting go of him. The turtle sat up quickly as he fought to catch his breath, and threw both legs over the side of the bed.<p>

Mike bent over as he tried to muffle the attack, but it was much too late to try and hide it. The light clicked on, and he glanced over guiltily to see the curly-haired young woman rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Rebecca drew up on her knees beside him, and gripped his arm anxiously as the wheezing continued.

"Mikey, are you okay? Can you talk to me?"

The orange-masked turtle nodded, but didn't attempt to speak. Rebecca darted to her feet.

"I'm getting Donny!"

"_No_!" The hoarse word escaped Michelangelo as firmly as he could manage. "I'm o-kay." He gulped air greedily as the attack subsided somewhat. "See? Fine."

Rebecca's blue-green eyes narrowed at him in a way that they rarely did. "You're not fine, Mike! How many times do you expect me to just ignore this?"

"That was the first time in three weeks, Beck."

"I don't care! That cough has held on for way too long. It's been almost three months since you had bronchitis. It shouldn't still be this bad!"

"It_ isn't _that bad," he insisted. "The cough comes and goes. I've even been training without any issues! Donny has been over me a dozen times, and never seemed alarmed about anything. I don't want to invent things for him to worry about."

"Is that what you think_ I'm _doing? That I'm just searching for any excuse to hold you down? Mike, I think something could really be wrong with you, and you should be taking this seriously."

Michelangelo sighed deeply. "Beck, what do you want me to do? Donny said this could be a chronic thing. Am I supposed to run to him every time I have some episode? You know that there isn't anything he can do about it!"

She shook her head. "There have to be more things he could be checking into. Just because he doesn't know what's wrong yet doesn't mean something bigger isn't going on. I really wish you'd talk to him again."

"He's been going over me every week, Becky. I'm sorry this is worrying you so much."

The young woman didn't say anything in response, but the way she clenched her fists indicated her feelings on the matter. Michelangelo gave Becky a plaintive look.

"It's gonna be okay, it really is. The cough is irritating more than anything."

The orange-masked turtle reached out to her, and Becky reluctantly relaxed into his arms. The reprieve was extremely short-lived.

"Mike, you're freezing!"

"Beck, you know how easily we get cold, especially when the temperature drops-"

"No, I don't care how much you deny it! This isn't going away!"

Michelangelo huffed under his breath as he got to his feet. "I'm not hiding anything! I just don't want to make a big deal out of nothing."

"This isn't _nothing_, Mike, you're sick."

"What do you want me to DO about it?" he demanded heatedly.

"Mikey, I'm just scared, that's all. I want you to be all right."

The desperation in her voice almost broke him completely.

"I know," he said quietly. "But I'm doing the best I can, I am. If you want me to drag Donny out of bed, I will. I'm only pointing out that I've been doing better over the last month or so. Don and the docs wouldn't have cleared me to return to training if I wasn't."

"You're not working out full-time," she reminded him.

"But they wouldn't have signed me off to return at all if there was something seriously wrong, right?" Mike persisted. "I don't wanna fight, Beck."

"Neither do I. Are you coming back to bed?"

"In a minute. I'm gonna grab a sweatshirt, and then I'll be right back."

Michelangelo dug an oversized hoodie out of a drawer, and jerked it over his head as he headed out into the hallway. He stifled a cough by quickly covering his mouth with his sleeve. Mike was painfully aware that Leonardo could hear a pin drop in his sleep, let alone his respiratory issues.

He shook his head as he half-stumbled into the bathroom. Mike hated getting irritated with Rebecca, particularly because she wasn't the _source_ of his annoyance.

_Man, I thought I might actually be done with all of this,_ he thought impatiently. _Weeks go by with nothing, and now out of the blue, I can't breathe again._

The turtle leaned tiredly against the sink.

_The second I tell Donny or Doc, they're gonna cut back on my training again_.

Mike pounded his fist against the edge of the sink a little too hard, but the pain barely registered.

_Something's gotta give. Either I'm sick, or I'm not. I wish my body could make up its mind._

Mike buried his chin in the crook of his arm, to prevent the sound of his coughing from traveling beyond the bathroom walls. As he leaned against the pedestal of the sink, he was startled to feel the porcelain tremble under his skin. He nearly jumped as the floor also vibrated underneath him.

_What the shell?_

Mike cocked his head as he bent closer to the floor, and experimentally pressed a hand against the tile. The faint rumbling was over as quickly as it had begun, further puzzling the turtle.

"Huh." Michelangelo ran some water through the plastic bottle sitting on the sink, took a drink, then filled it up again to take with him.

By the time he'd made it back out to the hall, Rebecca was standing in their doorway, hesitating.

"Did you feel that, Mikey?"

The turtle nodded. "Yep. Can't tell you what it was, but it didn't seem like a big deal. Kinda felt like Raph was running down the stairs." Mike smirked as he cast a glance over the edge of the walkway to the empty living area below. "But it doesn't look he's doing any calisthenics."

Rebecca shook her head and actually smiled. "Are you coming to bed now?"

Mike threw an arm around her back as they walked toward the room, and she returned his embrace with less tension than he'd sensed earlier.

"I don't want to stay on your case, Mike," she murmured.

Before she could say another word, he cut the woman off with a soft kiss.

"I'm sorry for getting irritated with you, Becky. I'm just tired of dealing with all of this."

Rebecca nodded solemnly, but then broke into a wider smile. "I guess I'll just have to take better care of you."

"Now _that _doesn't sound half bad."

She giggled as he nudged her in the direction of the bed, but it trailed off when Becky noticed him stifling another cough.

At her pained glance, Mike offered her a lop-sided grin. "They're geniuses, Becky, and they always take care of us. I'm telling you, there's nothing to worry about."

* * *

><p>Donatello had been sleeping soundly on the ground floor of the Den, when the slight tremor under the mattress jolted him awake. The turtle sat up swiftly in the darkness, but then held still while the quiet rumbling continued.<p>

He cast a glance at the raven-haired woman beside him, but she didn't appear to be stirring. Donny didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he exhaled sharply out of reflex when the tremor stopped. Living underground for all these years, he'd felt his share of strange disturbances, but this one left him...unsettled.

_Whatever it was, it can't have been that serious. I barely felt it, and Jenna didn't even wake up, _he reasoned with himself.

Donny shut his eyes, but after a few seconds, it was wholly apparent that he was wide awake. With an irritated grunt he climbed out of bed carefully, hoping not to bother Jenna.

_I guess I'm going to have to prove to myself that it was nothing._

The faint illumination of the small night-light they always left on in the living area met him the moment he slipped into the hall. Donatello heard a whimper from behind Raphael and Karina's closed door, and felt an even stronger urge to be silent. He and Jenna rarely heard much out of his older brother's seven-month old, but it wouldn't take a lot to set Olivia off if she was already awake.

Donatello craned his neck from side to side, wincing as it cracked. He reached for the shoulder bag on the table and carried it into the darkened living area. He set it on the coffee table before unzipping the bag and removing his laptop.

While the computer started up, he reached for the TV remote. Chances were, not many people had felt it on the surface, and it could have originated from several miles away. Donny chalked his sleeplessness up to his own incessant curiosity, and flipped to a local channel that might contain breaking news on the possible earthquake. He glanced at the TV intermittently as he logged onto the internet.

A muted cry was his first clue that someone was coming, and Donatello glanced over his shoulder to see Raphael staggering down the hallway with the baby turtle. Donny gave him an appraising glance, as the red-masked turtle yawned stiffly.

"Hey," Raph announced, somewhat less than enthusiastically. "What are you doing up, Genius? Are we lookin' at the end of the world as we know it?"

Donny gave him a dry smile. "I doubt it, Raph, but it shook me up for some reason."

"You've never needed much of a reason to get up in arms over something." Raphael snickered.

"Look who's talking." Don grinned, as a whimpering Olivia suddenly looked over at him from his brother's shoulder. "Are you getting any real sleep, Raph?" he asked sympathetically.

Raphael shrugged. "Started out pretty good tonight, but she's been fussy on and off for the last hour or so."

"You know she'd probably sleep better if you and Karina got her in her own space."

"But then we'd be further away from Olivia too. I don't want to burden Leo and Mikey or their girls with this. Liv is _my_ baby."

"We've been through this, Raph. One of the happy couples upstairs would switch with you and Karina if you asked them to. That way, Olivia could be in the other empty room on the second floor, and you guys would still be close by. Why haven't you talked to either of our brothers?"

Raphael hesitated a moment. "I s'pose I should get on that, huh?"

"Sure wouldn't hurt to try. You look really tired, bro."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Don't start transferring your worry over Mikey onto_ me_, Don."

The purple-masked turtle unconsciously furrowed his brow. It was true that some of his anxiety over his younger brother had diminished over the last couple of weeks, but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him to keep an eye on Michelangelo.

_Probably just my over protectiveness rearing its ugly head, but it still doesn't make any sense. I might need to check his white blood cell count again._

"Donny?"

Donatello blinked, and noticed Raphael sitting in front of him once more.

"I said the wrong thing, didn't I?" his brother asked quietly.

Donny gave Raphael a faint smile. "I've got a lot on my mind, Raph. So what's my niece doing up, huh? Is she in training to be a night-owl?"

"Heading into overtime." Raphael groaned. "You know what makes it worse? I've gotten so paranoid over her waking up Kari, every little noise has me jumping. I'm waking up about every hour on the hour, just to make sure she's cool. I'm starting to feel a little bit loopy."

"Raph, _talk_ to Leo or Mikey, tomorrow. In the meantime, give Olivia here. I'm not sleeping anyway, and you look seriously deprived."

"I ain't gonna saddle you with her, Don, but you can hold Liv while I get her a bottle."

Donatello set aside his laptop and accepted the baby into his arms. Olivia sniffled as she gazed up at him with Raphael's amber eyes, and Donny wrapped her blanket tighter around her.

"You gotta quit giving your Dad such a hard time, Liv."

Olivia squirmed somewhat once the little girl realized that her father was no longer in sight.

"Now calm down, he's going to be right back," Donny assured her.

She didn't look entirely convinced, and Donatello could only hope that Karina was sleeping deeply enough not to be disturbed if Olivia started crying. Seeing the woman return to work with the Dance Company brought joy to the entire family, but it also added pressure on his brother to make sure she got enough sleep.

The red-masked turtle returned to the living area a few seconds later, and immediately reached for the baby.

"Raph, I've got her. Why don't you take a load off already?"

"Donny, you don't have to-"

"No one said I did. It's fine, bro. She's here, I'm here, and I'm not tired. Give me the bottle."

Raphael gave him a weary smile. "Okay, Genius, I'm not gonna stand here and argue with you at one in the morning."

The red-masked turtle dropped into the recliner with a mighty _thump,_ as Donny turned his attention to feeding Olivia. The baby struggled restlessly for a few moments, but eventually relaxed into contentedly sucking from the bottle.

Donatello smiled as she drifted off, and her breathing became even. He shifted her carefully so that he wouldn't disturb Olivia while he set the bottle aside. He glanced over at Raphael and almost laughed out loud when he realized his brother was asleep too.

_I guess this can work. I'll just wait for a few minutes to make sure she's really asleep, and put her down in the playpen. I don't want to risk putting her back in with Karina, not if she's still fussy. I think it's better to let both sleeping turtles lie._


	2. Early

Leonardo woke up when Calley shifted on the other side of the bed, with the groggy sensation that it was too soon for her to be getting up. The blond woman's soft smile met him, right before she rolled over to rise out of bed.

"It's early, isn't it?" he murmured.

Calley nodded. "I'm sorry, Leo. It's an important day, and Karina and I have a lot to do on the surface."

Leonardo popped up on his side to gaze at her. "You're still nervous about this media stuff, aren't you?"

Calley smoothed hair behind her ears. "There's no hiding anything from you, is there?"

"I know someone else like that," he scoffed. Leonardo reached over to scoop up his phone, and check the actual time.

_4:30? I can only think of one reason she'd be up this early._

"Do you want to loosen up?" he asked.

Calley drew her hair off her neck, as she wrapped it up in a ponytail. "It would help with the nerves."

Leonardo couldn't help but smile. _She can dance on a stage for hundreds, but the second a camera comes into the picture..._

"Are you going to come watch?" Her own smile was a mixture of teasing and bashfulness.

"I'd rather watch_ you_ than do almost anything else."

"You have to say that," she said matter-of-factly. "You're stuck with me now."

The blue-masked turtle impulsively got to his feet, and caught Calley by the wrist. The young woman fell into his embrace and brushed her cheek against his as she kissed him.

"I like being stuck with you," he said breathlessly, and took a couple of seconds to drink in the sight of her. "The real question is, how long is this _hair_ going to stick around?"

Calley snorted. "The stupid extensions are coming out _tonight_. You know I only got them for show; I'd forgotten what a burden long hair is. It doesn't even feel natural anymore."

"Will you try to rip them out the minute you're offstage, or will you wait for the Cast Party to finish?"

She shook her head. "I told you, I'm not going to that party, Leo."

"I can't understand why. Just because I can't take part in every aspect of your life, doesn't mean you shouldn't be involved in anything else. You're practically the star of this thing, Calley, I know people must want you to be there."

Calley's brown eyes clouded over slightly. "It's a strange feeling to have one foot in their world, and one in ours, Leonardo. Dancing in this show has been one of the greatest thrills I've ever had...but it's the art I love, not the attention. That's the reason I'm not looking forward to these interviews this morning. But it comes with the territory, and I shouldn't be complaining. I sure wasn't expecting to get the part that I did."

_She still doesn't believe she's as good as she is. _"You deserve that part, Calley. I've seen you live. The hype is no myth," he added lightly.

"You're coming tonight, aren't you?"

"I think we were _all_ planning on coming. My brothers and I sure know our way around the rafters by now."

"I'm glad," she told him. "It means a lot to me...and to Karina. She's been so happy being involved in the training and the choreography with the dancers again. You would never know she's been gone for months. Karina has been such a huge help to me. I don't think I could have done this without her."

"_Karina_ didn't get you the part, Calley," he reprimanded gently. "You won't consider going to the party?"

"Leo, I've thought about it. I'm just not normal, and it can be too much pressure sometimes. People see a certain woman when I dance, and it's awkward when I can't magically reproduce her in social settings. I don't want to fink out on the whole cast, but I'd rather spend time with them in smaller groups than be thrown into the upheaval of a giant party."

Her expression had turned anxious, as though she were seeking his approval for her choice.

"Calley, you've taken a lot of strides in the last few months. There's no rule that says you have to attend all their social gatherings. I only wanted to make sure that you're not holding yourself down because of me."

Her fingers lightly traced his neck, setting off tiny goose bumps. "You don't hold me down, Leo. You never have." Calley hesitated in his grasp a moment longer. "I guess I should start moving."

"You go ahead and get changed," he offered. "I'll get some tea on downstairs."

To his knowledge, Calley had never been a tea drinker before meeting him, but it had become a ritual they now shared almost daily.

"I won't be long," she assured him.

Leonardo quietly made his way down the hall, pausing for an instant to listen at Mike and Rebecca's door. The blue-masked turtle had heard Mike coughing the night before, but had chosen not to insert himself in the midst of it. He was disappointed, if he was being honest with himself. Michelangelo had seemed like he was getting back to normal, with even the persistent cough fading after months of hanging on.

_Maybe I should have said something to him last night, but Mike's not a kid anymore. He doesn't need me coming around to hold his hand. But if he doesn't say something to Don today, then I'll have to talk to Donatello myself._

Mike and Becky's room was quiet now, with no evidence that his brother or sister-in-law were awake. Leonardo silently moved on, trotting down the stairs without making a sound. He had seen the flickering of light from the shifting picture of the TV screen from the top of the stairs, but had to stifle a chuckle when the entire scene came into view.

Raphael was snoring in his customary chair, Donatello was asleep with his head pillowed on the arm of the couch, and Olivia was murmuring something unintelligible from her nearby playpen. Leo had no sooner entered the living area, than Donatello's head lifted off the couch.

"Leo? What time is it?"

"It's almost morning," he whispered. "Was this slumber party by invitation only?"

Donny laughed softly. "It just kind of happened. Liv has been keeping Raph up, and I offered to help with her. Next thing I know, he's sacked out."

"Did she wake you up too?"

"No, we had some kind of tremor. I had a hard time settling back down for some reason."

"We _did_, didn't we?" Leonardo recalled. "I almost thought I dreamed it. I guess it wasn't serious or anything, huh?"

"I couldn't find any information about it last night, but I thought the morning news might mention something. It's possible the city didn't even feel that shaking. We're closer to the source after all."

"So if we were to experience a_ real _quake..."

"Technically, we'd be safer underground than the people on the streets of New York, at least during the duration of the quake."

"But if there was a lot of damage, we could be in trouble too."

"Would be," Donny corrected. "Think cave-ins, floods-"

"I'd rather not." Leonardo shook his head.

Before Donatello could say another word, Raphael came awake with a snort. The red-masked turtle appeared to be a little startled.

"How long was I asleep? Where's-"

Donatello sat up from the couch, and pointed at the playpen. "Olivia is fine, Raph, she's been asleep for hours."

Raphael rubbed his forehead. "Dang, Genius, what'd you let me sleep for?"

"You were_ tired_, bro."

Leonardo cast a probing glance at Raphael. "You're not getting enough rest, are you?"

"'M fine," he answered stiffly.

Donatello gave Raphael a sharp look, and the red masked turtle relented.

"It's just been a little rough," Raphael allowed. "I'm trying to keep the noise down for Karina."

"Is there something I could be doing to help?" Leonardo asked.

Raphael hesitated as Calley came downstairs to join them, and Leonardo saw him swallow.

"My, aren't we all up early this morning." Calley grinned. "Is there some special occasion?"

Raphael's hand grazed the back of his head awkwardly. "What would the two of you say to switching rooms out with Kari and me? Olivia's been so restless, and Donny thinks she would do better in her own room. We could put her in the empty room upstairs, and still hear her from nearby."

Leonardo cast Calley a swift look, and the young woman readily nodded. "Well, sure, Raph. It makes sense; I don't know why it didn't occur to me before."

Raphael shrugged. "I figured it was a phase that wouldn't last, and I didn't wanna make any trouble."

"It's not any trouble, Raph," Calley insisted. "Everyone can bend. That's what family is about, isn't it?

Leonardo nodded firmly. "I'm sorry I haven't been aware of you, Raph."

The red-masked turtle crossed his arms. "It ain't your job to know everything, Fearless. There have been other things to occupy you mind." Raphael shot a small smirk in Calley's direction, but then got serious again. "We've all been walking around on eggshells because of this stuff going on with Mikey anyway."

Leonardo exhaled sharply and looked back and forth between his brothers. He'd planned on giving Michelangelo the opportunity to come forward on his own first, but now that the subject had been broached, it was too hard to hold back.

"I heard him again last night," Leo confessed. "It was that same wheezing as before."

Donatello's face fell considerably. "I really hoped that he'd kicked it. I need to test his blood again."

"Don, I've heard you talk with the docs about his white blood cell count, but I still don't understand the significance of it. What are you checking his blood for?" Leonardo asked.

"You understand that our white blood cells are the body's best defense against germs and diseases," Donatello said slowly. "That being said, if there's a serious drop in them, we become much more vulnerable to viruses and bacteria. Mike experienced a heavy loss of white blood cells after his bout with Yellow Fever in the Congo, and his count never recovered. It never returned to what could be considered a 'normal' range.

"We've assumed that Mike has become more susceptible to sicknesses because of it, things that we can't fight except by addressing the symptoms, and waiting for them to blow over."

"Is this really serious, Don?" Raphael asked. "It just seemed annoying at first, but the way it hasn't quit..."

Donatello's eyes bore the weight of his unknowing. "The docs and I haven't seen anything that indicates a life-threatening illness, or anything more than an 'annoyance' as you put it."

"Then why are you so concerned?" Leonardo asked evenly.

Donatello leaned more heavily against the couch. "It's a frightening spot to be in, without having a true understanding of his condition. I've explained it the best way that I know how to, but the truth is that we're still trying to figure things out. His blood count should have recovered by now."

The purple-masked turtle only allowed for a beat of silence, before forcing a more encouraging smile. "But there's no one better at what they do than Doc and Marc, and we're staying on top of it. I'll talk to Mike later on, see how much he'll volunteer about how he's feeling."

"He won't wanna talk about it," Raphael commented. "He just got his shell back into training."

"Which I hope didn't contribute to this," Donatello said ruefully.

Calley's hand reached for Leonardo, and the turtle could sense tension radiating off of her. He put an arm around her, and gave his brothers a hopeful look.

"You said you're on top of it...so we'll stay on him too, whether he likes it or not."


	3. Staying Behind

When Michelangelo emerged that morning, he had the impression that Leonardo had_ definitely _heard something the night before, just by the way Donatello pounced on him the second he came downstairs.

"Well g'morning to you too, bro," Mike said glibly. "Would it be okay if I get something to eat before you give me the third degree?"

After a cursory examination, Donatello appeared to relax a little. "No third degree, Mikey, not as long as you promise me you're being honest. Do you have a real appetite?"

"Do you realize who you're talking to?"

"Stop trying to divert me, bro, it won't work."

Michelangelo exhaled softly in return. "My throat hurts, and I'm worn out. But I'm still hungry," he added with a pitiful look.

Donatello smiled. "Your temperature is normal, and I can't find any other reason to be concerned. You should still take it easy in the food department-"

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"It's just until I'm sure of where you stand physically, Mike. I'd like to do some more blood-work at some point today too."

Mike made a face. "You don't see a reason to worry, but you still gotta stick me? Sounds like more cruel and unusual punishment."

"Absolutely. Go ahead and add 'Torture Master' under my resume of qualifications."

Mike laughed, and accidentally kicked off another round of coughing at the same time. The orange-masked turtle saw Donatello tense, and Mike shrugged half-heartedly.

"I guess I shouldn't go to the show tonight. I'd be a noise risk."

Donatello gave him an unhappy glance, illustrating that his older brother agreed with him.

"Everyone has seen it by now, there's actually no reason all of us have to be there," Donny offered.

"Bro, it's the last performance. Don't you think about staying behind with me. I'm a grown turtle - I don't need a babysitter."

"What about a brother?" Donny asked softly.

Michelangelo reached to squeeze Donny's shoulder appreciatively. "Don, it's cool. I'll be fine. I want you guys to go and support Calley. She's done really good, and she deserves to have her 'brothers' there to cheer her on. Please don't make a big deal out of this, okay?"

Michelangelo was overjoyed to escape the Lab, and his purple-masked brother's guilt-ridden stare.

_What, like it's his fault he can't knock this cough outta me? I swear, if the sky suddenly fell, he'd find some way to blame himself for it._

As Mike wandered into the kitchen, he found Jenna at the stove, pulling a steaming pan off of a burner. The raven-haired woman offered him what _felt _like a normal smile.

"Are you ready to eat?" Jenna's familiar Australian lilt was a comforting sound that made more of Michelangelo's irritation dissipate.

"Your husband is limiting me again. I'll be lucky to get a couple crusts of toast. You need to do something about him, Jen."

The woman chuckled. "Donny was your brother a long time before he was my husband, but I'll do my best, Mike. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Better make it something hot." The orange-masked turtle leaned his elbows heavily on the table in front of him, and rested his chin in one hand while he waited.

"What's your flavor preference with the bouillon, Mike? We've got both chicken and beef."

"Surprise me."

"I'll get some toast started too."

At the turtle's raised eyebrows, she laughed once more. "You can go crazy and eat the whole piece if you want, you don't have to limit it to the crusts."

Mike had just started to grunt a reply when his phone went off. He tugged it free from his belt, then looked at the number on the screen out of habit and cleared his throat before answering it. "Hey, Brandon. What's up?"

"Not too much, just a regular boring day around here," his friend offered.

"Aw, y' don't get to break in any new recruits today?"

"Nope, not until Friday. It's going to be a long week of waiting."

Mike could hear the grin in Brandon's voice.

"You'd think that the FBI could give you something to do on the days when you're not humbling their newest field agents. Are you missing the classroom finally?"

"Oh, I've got some things to do, it's just not as much fun. I was planning on inviting myself over tonight, to continue the marathon we started."

Michelangelo sighed inwardly. "Bran, you don't have to do this, all right? Karina is your sister, and a lot of this show is _her_ choreography. You ought to be there too."

"Mike I've seen it a number of times already. Don't try shoving me off - I'm coming, whether you like it or not."

Mike rolled his eyes. "You'll do what you want, no matter what I think."

"You're getting it now. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, Bran, just make sure you bring some decent food. Donny wants to starve me."

"I've got you covered, Mike."

Michelangelo hung up the phone right about the time that Jenna was coming toward him with a mug from the microwave. He took a careful sip before waving at the woman to sit down. "Did you hear from your Mom?"

"About an hour ago. She and Tim are having a great time, and they really needed this. Both of their jobs are so demanding in different ways."

It had been a hard-fought battle to get Jenna's Mom and Calley's Dad to take the vacation, but the tickets being paid for made it more difficult to refuse.

"Honestly, it's not like they even went on a real honeymoon or anything. Both of them seem to think that the world will cease turning if they take some time off. They're a lot alike." Jenna laughed. "I considered asking the Consulate to bar my Mom from coming to work, but she eventually agreed to play along on her own."

Michelangelo snickered. "Tim wasn't any better. Calley had to talk to a couple of the higher-ups at the NYPD to set the vacation time up so he'd _have_ to use it."

Jenna patted his arm. "It's been awhile since we got away from the city too. With Fall coming, the Adirondacks will be beautiful soon."

Mike nodded slowly. "It feels like I've been cooped up half the year. I missed most of the summer stuck underground with these stupid symptoms."

Jenna gave him a sympathetic look. "Hopefully there's a light at the end of that tunnel."

Mike smiled. "It's gotta happen sometime, sis."

* * *

><p>When late afternoon rolled around, Mike was surprised to see Luke and Greg show up along with Brandon.<p>

"What is this, an intervention?" Mike asked. "What did I do to get saddled with three babysitters, Doc?"

Luke gave him an easy smile. "I was already on baby duty. I've got to keep an eye on Reina, so I figured she might as well have some fun with her cousin Olivia."

Mike couldn't resist grinning at the toddling 18-month old. Reina staggered toward Michelangelo, arms outstretched to the turtle. He gave Luke a questioning glance.

"It's highly unlikely you could be contagious to her, Mike. I know we've been kind of careful, but if your brothers haven't even gotten sick, I doubt the kids are going to catch anything from you," Luke assured him.

Michelangelo scooped up the human girl, and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Hey, babe, I haven't seen enough of you lately."

Reina tugged hard on the tails of his bandana, and he carefully pulled her fingers free. "Take it easy, kid, no fair beating up on your favorite turtle."

Raphael made a scoffing sound as he sauntered into the room with Karina. "I don't see Reina beating on you if she likes you all that much, Mikey. Just wait until Liv is big enough, and both girls will be teaming up on you."

Mike cast a mock sorrowful look at the babbling turtle in Karina's arms. "You wouldn't gang up on your Uncle Mikey, would you, Olivia?"

Karina chuckled as she deposited the squirming turtle on Mike's other side, so that he was holding both little ones on the couch.

The orange-masked turtle rested one arm around each of them, and looked around at the group. "I've got my entertainment for the night. What are the rest of you going to do?"

Raphael shook his head. "Don't you go off spoiling my girl, Mike, or you'll end up having to keep her happy 24/7."

"Sounds good to me," Mike shot back cheerily.

"Go on, get out of here already," Luke ordered. "Kat's probably wondering where you are, Karina. Weren't you supposed to leave like twenty minutes ago?"

"If my sister doesn't expect me to be late by now, she doesn't know me at all, Luke. Don't get into too much trouble here, boys. Get my baby to bed at a decent hour."

Mike shot a glance at Greg and Brandon, nearly laughing at their innocent expressions. The two roommates were just as capable of causing trouble as all four turtles together.

"We'll be good, Kari, on our honor." Brandon winked. "Now go, before you miss the closing night altogether."

After the rest of his brothers and their wives had hustled out the door, Mike put down both the girls to play on the rug.

Greg gave the turtle a sidelong glance as he dropped onto the couch beside him. "How are you feeling, Mike?'

Michelangelo maintained an even smile. "I'm okay. What's up with you guys? Brandon complained things are boring with the FBI."

Greg chuckled. "He's just mad about not getting to beat anybody down. There's never a real lull at headquarters; bad guys don't like to take a day off. At least that's what Kat used to tell me when_ I _whined about being bored."

"Well there's your answer," Brandon inserted. "If we could get you out from behind your computer and talk my big sister into taking you back, we could all tear up the field together. That's _if_ you've still got it in you."

Greg gave him a somewhat menacing look, but Luke was the first to speak up.

"Kat doesn't need the encouragement to run back to the FBI. We're _enjoying_ just being parents for the time being, thank you very much."

Michelangelo cocked his head. "Y'know there's a chance she might wanna return to the action someday, Doc," he pointed out.

Luke nodded. "I know that eventuality exists. I'm just not in a hurry to send her off to the 'battlefield' again."

"She could take up something in Intelligence like I did," Greg suggested.

"Kat's not gonna be satisfied with some desk job," Brandon scoffed. "Just because _you've_ gone soft-"

"The fact that you can kick my tail won't stop me from putting up a fight, James," Greg interrupted.

Mike smiled at Greg's use of the nickname, the title by which the man had constantly addressed _Kat _when they were partners.

"Bring it _on_, Heff. I'm dying for a little excitement," Brandon returned.

"Me too, but let's get the babies out of the way first," Mike offered.

"I'm off duty, so any kind of bloodshed is on your own heads. Don't come crying to me about it," Luke announced.

"It's okay, Luke, you're not the only doctor we've got on speed-dial," Greg said.

"Marc should have his phone off by now," Luke replied. "You'll be stuck dragging your own tails to the ER."

Brandon smirked. "It's all good, Doc. You're just saving me the trouble of whomping Greg into next week. Sayuri might have been rescued from a tremendous disappointment. I don't know how she'd manage without your weekly chats," he teased him.

Greg made another face as his cheeks colored. "Don't bring my girl into this. I might surprise you someday, 'Mr. Taekwondo Master'."

"I'm not going to be holding my breath, Heff."


	4. Breathless

Leonardo had never experienced a problem with staying focused, yet aware of everything else around him. He'd gotten to a place where he could even tune out several of the minor annoying behaviors his brothers had picked up through the years. In the midst of training and exercises it wasn't unusual for the insignificant noise to fade into the background, only for something important to draw him back to awareness. It was a fine line to walk between shutting out distractions, and still being able to hear that which was necessary.

Getting caught up in watching Calley, however, was a different experience altogether. Leonardo had found that he could get lost in her dancing, to the point that nothing else registered. She had never failed to move him, but there was something else behind the performance tonight that seemed to cause time to stand still. It was too easy to forget where he was, and the hundreds of other people in the theater. The rise and fall of the accompanying instrumentation barely impacted him. The notes only existed to drive the dance, or to slow it down.

It was the applause that finally drew him back to reality, with an overwhelmed sigh that resonated from deep within him. Leonardo turned his head to see his younger brothers, and found Raphael smirking at him.

"If I didn't know better, Fearless, I'd think you had a crush on the lead or something."

"And I guess a certain choreographer has never had that effect on you, right, Raph?"

Leonardo didn't wait for a response before looking wistfully back at the stage. There was a part of him that wished they didn't have to wait so long for the madness to die down before the girls could be reunited with friends and family. There would be photos and endless conversations first.

His purple-masked brother nudged his shoulder suddenly.

"C'mon, Leo. Marc's text said they'd wait back at the car. You're not going to be able to see your girl for awhile, so we may as well get out of here."

Leonardo wasn't interested in arguing with Donny's logic; he was simply trying to shake off the tingling feeling from legs that had probably gone to sleep a long time ago without him noticing. Leo nodded his head at Raphael for the red-masked turtle to go first. His brother had several more months of experience with sneaking into this building, from watching Karina's practices with the Company before Calley had ever come into the picture.

The three brothers silently made their way above the auditorium and the still thronging crowd. They exited from the roof onto an adjoining building, but Leonardo hesitated another moment before breaking into a run. They made their way swiftly over the neighboring structures, their shadows barely visible to anything besides each other.

Leonardo could feel his brothers' eyes, even if they weren't saying anything yet. The next time the blue-masked turtle pulled up short, his gaze flicked between Raph and Donny.

"What, guys?"

Donatello smiled shyly. "It's nothing, Leo, we don't need to stop."

Leonardo's glance automatically panned back to Raphael.

"He's right, bro, everything's fine," Raph added.

"Then why are you two acting weird?"

"Don't misunderstand me, Leo, but your girl was from some other planet tonight," the red-masked turtle confessed. "I ain't never seen a room look so..."

"Captivated," Donny supplied.

Leonardo nodded. "She was breathtaking; I just didn't realize everyone felt it as strongly as I did."

"I doubt that's possible." Donatello grinned more freely. "But she probably managed to convert a couple of those guys who were dragged to the show against their will tonight."

Leonardo leaned against the ledge of the building on which they were perched. "The only thing that makes it better is knowing how much she loves it too."

Raphael clapped him firmly on the shell. "Well, our girls will be following soon enough, Fearless. Let's catch up with the others in the meantime, before they send out a search party."

Marcus' dark blue Avalanche was parked near the back of a parking lot, closer to the Battleshell than they'd been expecting. They approached their friend's vehicle first, and discovered that they'd beat April, Marc, and Kat back there.

The turtles departed to wait in the shadows for the humans to show up, never stirring as they saw other figures filtering through the lot to pick up their cars. The three familiar forms were easy to distinguish, even in the semi-darkness. Leonardo whistled to let their friends know that they were close by, and he watched while they got into the car. After verifying that the coast was clear, the turtles slipped between vehicles to meet them.

April smiled fondly as Leonardo ducked his head into the Avalanche. "Hey, guys. Hope we didn't keep you waiting long."

"Is everyone still coming back underground?" Leonardo asked.

"If Calley won't go to the party, we have to take the party to _her_," Kat offered, as she scooted over to make more room for the turtles to hang out temporarily.

"She was pure magic tonight," Marcus commented. "It's too bad this was the last performance."

"For _this_ program," Donny pointed out. "Calley could still have a career ahead of her, if she wants it."

Kat shook her head. "I can tell you that Karina has worked with a lot of dancers through the years between teaching and choreography...and when she says that Calley has something very special, it means something."

Leonardo sat back against the seat with a strong sense of satisfaction. "We all knew she had it in her - Calley just needed to prove it to herself."

The blue-masked turtle shifted as his phone vibrated. He reached for it, expecting to see Calley's name pop up, but it turned out to be his absent brother.

"Hi, Mikey. Are you guys holding down the fort okay?"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n. No lads will penetrate the defenses while I hold the walls." The orange-masked turtle put on a fake accent that made Leonardo smile.

_He has to be feeling better_. _That, or he's getting good at faking it._

"We're still waiting on the girls to get finished. It could still be another hour or so before we join you."

"I hope they hurry," Mike said jokingly. "Someone needs to stop Bran and Heff from killing each other. Was it a good night?"

"Calley was the best I've ever seen her."

"Glad to hear it, Fearless, I want you guys to tell me all about it."

Leonardo detected a soft click on the line, and Mike spoke up again a moment later.

"Beck is trying to get me, so I'm gonna let you go, okay, Leo?"

"Sure, go talk to your girl, Mike. We'll be home as soon as we can." Leonardo focused dark eyes on Marcus when he hung up the phone. "So, Marc, about Mike and training..."

The doctor turned around to face Leonardo straight on. "Luke, Donny, and I discussed this, Leo. If he feels up to training, it's better for him to work out than stay idle."

"But if it's complicating him getting better-"

Donatello's hand on Leonardo's shoulder interrupted him. "None of us want to see Mike struggling, bro. All of this could simply be related to his white blood cell count, but there are other possibilities too. We think one of the best ways to get to the bottom of this is to try and proceed normally. In this case, Mike's training would become sort of like a stress test."

"You mean like the kind of procedure where you push someone's heart really hard, just to see what happens?" Leo asked.

"This isn't simple curiosity, Leo, and we're not taking things lightly. The three of us agree that we need to allow thing to progress naturally, until we get some more understanding," Marc replied.

Leonardo shrugged. "You guys know what you're doing, but I still think we ought to be watching him closely."

"No doubt there, Leo," Raphael said gruffly, a hint of protectiveness coming out in his tone. "We can't let him pull one over on us, that's for sure."

* * *

><p>Raphael was one of the first ones back in the Den, with Karina's arm hooked through his. The red-masked turtle paused at the sight of his seven-month-old cradled against Michelangelo's plastron.<p>

_Shell, he looks so happy with her_.

Raphael forced a smile down, and gave his youngest brother a stern look. "You_ would _let her stay up. Didn't I tell you not to spoil the kid, Mikey?"

"She's asleep, Raphy. No harm done, right?"

Karina bent over Michelangelo on the couch, and the orange-masked turtle held up Olivia for her to take.

"You certainly got her relaxed, Mike. Maybe she'll sleep through half the night," Karina said wryly.

To Raphael's dismay, the little turtle whimpered the moment she was airborne.

"Guess she was too dang comfortable," Raph mumbled.

"Lemme have her a little longer, and I'll get her back to sleep," Mike said. "I'm the babysitter after all."

Raphael started to object, but Karina tugged on his arm.

"It's okay, Raph. I need your help with something real quick anyway."

The red-masked turtle was confused. "You do? You didn't say any-"

"Just come with me, and I'll explain."

Raphael trailed behind his wife as the Latin woman headed down the hall, and couldn't help staring at the way her hips moved under the fabric of her dress. Karina ran her fingers through her burnished hair, removing the clips that had held it properly in place for hours.

"Okay, Kari, what were you trying to tell me?"

Karina leaned against their bedroom door to shut it behind them, then she spun around to catch Raphael with a deep kiss. After the instant of surprise passed, the turtle eagerly returned it.

"This was all you wanted, huh? I'm not too good with subtlety, Kari. Sometimes you just need to beat me over the head."

Karina kicked her shoes off, and settled down on the edge of their bed.

"Not to kill the mood or anything, but with everybody here..." Raphael faltered, and she put a finger to his mouth to motion for silence.

"This isn't about seducing you, Raph, as much as I'd like to."

He couldn't hide his disappointment, and she laughed freely.

"But it _does_ have something to do with it," Karina added. Her green eyes had been twinkling mischievously, but now they seemed more serious. "I miss you, Tortuga. You've been taking so much of the responsibility for Olivia lately. You're a good father, Raph, and I don't think anyone could love her more than you. But you're also not supposed to be doing this alone. You should be able to rely on me and even the others sometimes. Your brothers and the girls get a lot of enjoyment out of Olivia too."

"But they shouldn't have t-" Raphael stopped himself when she sighed.

"They want to help, Raph, and it's not a bad thing to accept from time to time. Don't you miss _me_?"

Karina's smile suddenly felt electrifying, and there was nothing he wanted more than to take her.

"I miss ya like crazy, Kari. I'm having a hard time controlling myself right now."

"The sooner we get our rooms moved around the better, huh?"

"How long will it take you to pack?"

Her laughter peeled out more clearly than he'd heard in weeks.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy, Tortuga."

"Kari, I'm glad you went back to work. You love doing this, and you're really good at it."

"I love _you_ too, Raph."

"I know you do, Chica."

"Then I'm going to make you a deal. You 'let' your brothers and their wives take Liv occasionally, and I can guarantee I'll make all the time for you that we need."


	5. Sparring

Michelangelo shot Raphael a winning smile as the red-masked turtle finished cleaning his plate, and nodded appreciatively at the younger turtle.

"That's good stuff, Mikey. I gotta say it's nice to have you back; I've been itching for some of your cooking."

Mike's grin deepened. "You know what I'm itching for? Another shot at you."

Raphael gazed at Mike skeptically. It had been nearly two weeks since the worst of his brother's symptoms had dissipated again. Raphael was more aware of Michelangelo than he'd been in months; but then, he was living just down the hall from him again. Raphael's senses were already on high alert because of listening for Olivia in the next room, and he'd inadvertently caught himself listening for Mike too.

Michelangelo had returned to training with the medical team's blessing days ago, but sparring had yet to be attempted.

Raphael shot his brother a smirk. "I don't know if you're ready for me, Mike."

Michelangelo crossed his arms with a gleam in his blue eyes. "You're not _scared_ to get back out on the mat with me, are you, Raphy? I know it's been awhile, but I still remember how to kick your shell."

"You and what army, Chucklehead?" Raphael pushed back from the table, and dropped his dishes in the sink. "But we probably ought to check with Donny first, make sure he's got no problem with it."

"Why would he have a problem, bro? He's used to patching you up by now."

Raphael rolled his eyes. _Yeah, bonehead, _I'm_ the one he should be worrying about._

"I'll go find him - Donny needs to get eat something to eat anyway," Mike pointed out.

Raphael settled against the counter top as his brother disappeared from the kitchen. It felt much quieter around the Den than normal, with three out of the four women gone for the weekend to Pennsylvania. It was the first such trip that Rebecca had been comfortable to take within the last couple of months, and it made him feel like things really _were_ getting back to normal.

The other girls had gotten into the habit of accompanying Rebecca when she left the state in her fund-raising efforts for the Congo. Karina was the only one who hadn't made the trip with them, mostly because of Olivia. The bronze-haired woman was on the surface this afternoon with Kat and Luke, leaving the four turtles underground with a napping Olivia.

"...it's called a 'break', Donny, have you ever heard of it?" Mike's voice traveled through the door, before his brothers even entered the kitchen.

Donatello bore the typical sheepish expression he got whenever someone had to _remind _him to eat. "It does smell good, Mikey," the purple-masked turtle confessed. "I'm sorry I didn't come the first time you called, I've been a little caught up in debugging this software."

Hearing that Donatello was distracted by some computer program rather than Mike's health was comforting to the red-masked turtle too. Mike took a minute to set him up with a plate, before fixing him with a hopeful smile.

Donny didn't notice it right away as he was occupied with the food, but a hovering Michelangelo didn't escape his notice for long. "All right, what do you want, Mikey?"

"I wanna spar with Raph. Is that okay, Don?"

Donny left his fork suspended in mid-air as he considered it. "Well...I guess...I mean, you're feeling up for it?"

The orange-masked turtle nodded eagerly.

"Then it should be fine; just stay aware of yourself, okay?" Donatello looked at Raphael as he finished, and the older turtle nodded.

Raphael intended to keep Donny company for awhile while he ate, until Donatello reached for his vibrating phone. He tapped a button on the screen with a secretive smile, and his gaze remained riveted as he typed a message.

"Don't forget to_ eat_, Donny." Mike said firmly.

"I'm not-I mean, I won't..." Donatello faltered with a chuckle. "You guys go ahead, okay? I'll clean all this up when I'm finished; it's my turn anyway."

Raphael repressed another smirk as he left the kitchen with Michelangelo.

_I don't think it ever gets old with him and Jen. I sure hope the same can be said of all of us when we've been together that long. I sure don't see myself getting bored with Kari._

He was grateful to see his normally exuberant little brother being careful to move quietly through the living area. Olivia was sleeping soundly in her playpen, and Raphael paused beside her to listen to her breathe for a couple of seconds before following Mike to the dojo.

As Mike stretched out his legs on the mat, Raphael was once more painfully aware of the weight his younger brother had lost over the last couple of months.

_This stuff has taken more of a toll than he wants to admit._

Raphael plunked down on the floor beside him, and began running through familiar warming up exercises. Mike was in his typical jovial element, running his mouth in a way that simply begged for a shell-kicking. Despite Mike's eagerness, however, he still felt the need to take it easy on his youngest brother.

After a couple of minutes on the mat they got up to face each other. Raphael wasn't expecting the speed of Mike's lunge that caught him squarely in the stomach, and threw him off balance. The red-masked turtle nearly fell, but lightning reflexes enabled him to correct his form, and he shot a sweeping blow at his brother's feet.

Michelangelo barely evaded him, leaping just out reach. The grin on the orange-masked turtle's face made it that much harder for Raphael to hold back his force.

_But I've been outta commission enough times to know how good it feels to get back on the mat...he deserves a little leeway today_.

Raphael didn't make an immediate move against his brother, letting Mike attack him instead. Michelangelo feigned one direction, and then whipped the other way so fast that he became a blur. Mike's foot hooked behind Raphael's leg, and brought the red-masked turtle down on one knee.

Michelangelo snorted as Raphael darted upright. "Would you quit going so easy on me? How am I supposed to have any fun?"

A savage glint entered Raphael's eyes as he erupted off the mat. His powerful lunge propelled his younger brother backwards, and carried both of them head over heels onto the mat. Raphael landed in the dominant position on top of his brother, and gave him a grin.

"Are you having fun yet, Mike?"

Michelangelo squirmed underneath him. "Rematch!" he demanded.

Raphael popped up from the mat. "Have it your way, bro."

Michelangelo got to his feet, looking none the worse for wear. They slowly circled each other for a few seconds, before Raphael sensed Mike's spring. He spun out of his younger brother's reach, and lowered his shoulder to thrust a softened blow into Mike's jaw.

Michelangelo faltered but didn't go down, staggering backwards a couple of steps. Raphael stayed in the ready position, not bothering to pursue him.

"Still taking it easy, huh?" Mike challenged. "I'm gonna make you regret that."

"Then quit running your mouth and get your shell over here, Mikey.'

The orange-masked turtle darted at him, instantly making himself vulnerable. Raphael tripped him up, in a way that almost felt too easy. He pounced on top of Michelangelo to keep him down, and was surprised when his brother rolled onto his side, and forced his elbow under Raphael's chest.

Mike used his shoulder for leverage, and had both arms around Raphael's biceps in the blink of an eye. The orange-masked turtle shoved him sideways, and slammed Raphael back down on the edge of the mat with a triumphant cry.

"Now I'm having fun, Raphy!"

Raphael growled in irritation as he rose, and Mike's expression suddenly changed.

"Shell, you're bleeding, Raph."

The red-masked turtle swiped a hand across his stinging cheek. He'd struck the corner of the mat the wrong way when Mike flipped him, but it didn't feel that bad.

"No biggie, Mike. What's a little blood between brothers?"

"I'm sorry, bro."

"Let it go, okay? Throw me that rag, would you?"

Mike's chest was heaving as he scooped a small towel off the nearby bench.

"Hey, Mike, just chill for a second, all right? I'm gonna go rinse this off, and I'll be right back. I ain't through with _you _yet," Raph finished threateningly.

Mike still seemed to be breathing a little too quickly as he leaned against the wall, and sank to the mat in a cross-legged position, but he waved Raphael off to go ahead.

Raphael exited toward the living area, and noticed that his blue-masked brother was downstairs now, leafing through his current book. Leonardo glanced up when he heard him coming, and then gave him a double-take.

"What'd you do, Raph, get in a fight with yourself?"

"Nah, Donny cleared me and Mike to go at it, and he got a little...excited. It was an accident. I just hit the edge of the mat."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure, Leo. I'll be back."

Raphael trotted upstairs to the bathroom, and set to work washing the small gash in his cheek. Donny would insist on looking at it later, but right now, he didn't want to be fussed over. He kept pressure on the wound just until it stopped bleeding, and then cleansed it thoroughly.

Raphael came back downstairs quietly, and checked one more time on Olivia, to find that she was stirring. A cry started to escape her before Raphael scooped her out of the playpen.

"Want me to take her, Raph? I'm not doing anything," Leo offered.

The red-masked turtle shook his head. "No, it's okay, Fearless. I think she'd enjoy watching her daddy beat up on her Uncle. He's got it coming."

"Take it easy on him, Raph," Leo reminded him.

"Why do you think _I'm_ the one bleeding, Leo? I ain't gonna hurt him," Raphael said defensively, and turned back toward the dojo.

Raphael hadn't expected a spirited welcome from Mike, but his brother's lack of reaction was still strange. His brow furrowed as he put Olivia down on the mat, and ambled toward the orange-masked turtle.

"Mike? C'mon, you're not done already, are you? I'm fine, bro, I shook it off. Now get up, and let's finish this."

Michelangelo's head was lolled against his shoulder for support, almost like the turtle was asleep.

"Mike? Quit messing around." Raphael nudged his brother with a hint of exasperation.

The shoulder supporting his head flopped lifelessly so that his chin slumped forward, and Raphael tugged on his frame more insistently.

"What the...Mikey? This ain't funny - get your shell up."

But if his brother was faking it, this was a world-class manipulation. Mike's body was unrelenting as Raphael turned him over onto the mat. The red-masked turtle patted his cheek, and felt a layer of cold sweat.

_Why the shell would he be cold? We were both pushing ourselves in here._

Confusion turned to alarm as he rested a hand on his brother's ribcage, to check for the most basic of life-signs. He hesitated for a long moment, before leaning his ear closer to his brother's chest. Mike wasn't breathing.


	6. Corners

Donatello was drawn out of deep contemplation over a certain line of code by a shout that sounded like Raphael. The panic in his brother's voice had him jerking up from the keyboard and dashing out of the Lab. All he could think was to head to the dojo, the last place that he knew Raphael and Michelangelo had been.

He was met first by Leonardo clutching a struggling Olivia, who was trying very hard to crawl to her father. Raphael was kneeling on the mat next to Michelangelo, and the orange-masked turtle was completely still.

The first thought to enter Donatello's mind was the possibility of injury. "What happened, Raph?"

"Donny, he's not breathing, _do something_!" Raphael backed away to give the purple-masked turtle room.

Donatello's hands instantly went to his brother's ribcage. He didn't feel anything right away, and he was preparing himself to begin CPR, when Michelangelo's chest shuddered under his fingers.

Donny exhaled sharply. "It's okay," he told his brothers. "He's breathing."

Raphael dropped back onto the mat, amber eyes still wide with alarm. "Don, he wasn't...I didn't..."

The red-masked turtle trembled so hard that Donatello was almost concerned about _him_ for a second.

"It's okay, Raph. Take a deep breath, and tell me what led up to this."

"Donny, I don't know! He was fine, everything was fine when I left! I hit the mat too hard, busted my cheek, and went upstairs to take care of it. When I came back, Mike was unconscious, and he wasn't breathing!'

While Raphael explained, Donny probed his younger brother's body, searching for some clue as to what had caused Mike to end up this way. When Donatello had been silent for over a minute, Leonardo didn't hold back anymore.

"What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," Donatello admitted. "His pulse is erratic, and his breathing is...well, it's not normal. Raph, how was he in the spar? Was Mike acting weird?'

"No, I woulda put a stop to it! He was fine, just as annoying as ever. Mike even took me down a couple of times; 'course I was going _easy_ on him," he added defensively. "It was the last throw that I got hurt on, and...he _was_ a little breathless when I left." Raphael shook his head. "I don't understand it, Donny, I just don't!"

Donatello was turning in Leonardo's direction, but whipped his head back around toward Michelangelo when heard his brother gasp. His younger brother's eyes were open now, registering utter confusion.

"Mike? Are you all right?" Donny asked evenly.

"Wh...Donny? How..."

"Don't try to say too much. Can you take a couple of deeper breaths for me?"

Michelangelo's brow creased as he attempted it, and his obvious struggle concerned Donatello.

"Raph, run into the Lab and grab an oxi, okay?"

The red-masked turtle jumped to his feet and disappeared from the dojo, even as Mike put a more serious effort into catching his breath. Donatello helped him sit up, and he tried hard to remain reassuring. He felt the deep shudder that ran through his brother's body as he tried to draw air, and only a wheezing sound came out.

"Don't force it, Mike. Relax, and let your chest muscles do the work for you. Now inhale slowly...and let it back out. Whatever you do, don't panic. I'm right here, and everything's going to be fine." Donny glanced up as he felt Leonardo's stare. "Leo, maybe you should take Olivia somewhere else."

"Forget it, bro, I've got her," Raphael said gruffly as he hurried back into the room. He handed the oxi to Donatello, but then stood transfixed in front of the scene for a few moments longer.

"Raph," Leonardo spoke up. "She _does_ want you, so go ahead and take her out of here, then call Doc. I'll help Donny with Mike."

Wordlessly Raphael took his daughter from Leonardo, and walked out of the room. Meanwhile, the blue-masked turtle leaned down over the mat, and laid a hand on Mike's shoulder, trying to offer some reassurance of his own.

Mike's eyes still registered too much fear for Donatello's liking as he adjusted the mask over his brother's mouth.

"Keep breathing slowly, Mike, and try to stay relaxed. You know how this goes - the mask won't do the work for you, but it should make it easier to get oxygen." Donatello looked at Leo. "Let's get him up and over to the Lab, okay?"

They worked together to get Mike on his feet, supporting him as he sagged in their arms.

"You don't..._have_ to call Doc." Mike wheedled.

Donatello gave him a sharp look. "Stop talking, and don't even try to resist me on this. Concentrate on breathing, and I'm going to run a very simple test."

As Mike's gaze tracked him nervously, Donatello's expression softened.

"This is no big deal, Mikey. This little device here is just going to clip to your finger."

"What for?"

"It will measure the amount of oxygen in your blood. See how easy this is?"

Mike nodded mournfully, and Donatello tried to smile at him.

"Save your breath a while longer, and I'm going to figure out where we're at."

* * *

><p>Luke had been hesitating outside the partially open bedroom door for at least five minutes, listening to Donny taking notes out loud while he paced the room.<p>

"...attack may have been induced by physical activity. He claims it's the worst one he's ever experienced, which could indicate a couple of different things. It might be a sign that his condition is escalating, but it could also be a clue that his body is simply exhausted. If his immune system has taken a hard hit, it only makes him more vulnerable to a lot of possible issues."

The blond-haired doctor finally knocked on the door, and he saw Donny freeze in his step with his digital recorder. When the purple-masked turtle saw him, Don sat down on the edge of his bed with a sigh.

"What's going on, Doc? How's he doing?"

"He's stable, Donny, he's _been _stable. The supplemental oxygen seems to be doing the trick, but-"

"We're still leaving him on the monitors for right now?"

Luke nodded. "Of course, overnight at the very least. You did the right things for him, Don, you've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"Why do you say that?"

"It kind of feels like you're hiding. Marc and I have things under control with observation, but why are you lingering in your room?"

"I'm not _trying_ to hide. I'm just thinking things through. This doesn't make a shred of sense. If it was a simple infection, shouldn't it be following a predictable course? This weird 'on again, off again' effect is blowing my mind. He's trained for at least four days without a problem, only to suffer another adverse reaction now?

"Mike swears he didn't feel anything unusual leading up to it, and Raph says he was acting normal. How does he go from scoring two take-downs in a spar, to having an oxygen absorption rate of _85_?"

"Donny, I can't answer that. That's why we're observing him. I know its nerve-wracking, but if you let yourself get too emotional, you won't be able to continue thinking straight. If you need to take a break, then do it."

Donatello nodded stoically, then glanced toward the door that was still partially ajar. Luke followed his gaze, and saw Raphael lingering on the other side of the doorframe.

"C'mon in, bro." Donatello sounded tired all of a sudden.

Raphael staggered forward uncertainly, glancing between Luke and Donatello.

"What's up, Raph?" Donny asked after a couple seconds of silence.

"I...uh...Donny, it's this thing with Mike. He honestly wasn't breathing when I got there, at least...I couldn't feel it. I s'pose I could have been missing it."

"Raph, you know the difference between whether someone is breathing or not. Do you really think you just imagined it?"

"I didn't_ imagine_ it." Raphael was indignant. "What are you doing back here, Don?"

"I'm thinking out loud," Donatello replied. "I don't want to freak Mike out with my wonderings."

"And avoiding him isn't gonna freak him out?"

The edge in Raphael's tone made Luke feel like he should interject something, but Donatello was on his feet before the doctor could speak.

"I'm not avoiding him, Raph; I don't have any answers for him. I'm trying to figure this out."

"You're not _trying _hard enough!" Raphael growled. "You've got your head wrapped up in all these other projects, when you should be focused on your little brother!"

Luke heard Donatello catch his breath sharply, and the man took the opportunity to speak up. "Raph, that's not fair," he said evenly. "We've all been working on this, and Donatello isn't blowing Mike off."

"Then why ain't you getting anywhere? Why's he gotta quit breathing before everything else stops? You guys wanna 'experiment' with him? Well how'd that stress test work out for you? I hope you're satisfied!"

Raphael turned on heel and stalked out the door, leaving a motionless Donatello standing in the middle of the room. The turtle's face didn't register any emotion, but the slight slump of his shoulders told Luke what he needed to know. The man was torn between running after the red-masked turtle to give him a piece of his mind, or staying to reassure Donatello. The calm version ended up winning out.

"Donny...he doesn't mean it."

The turtle shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Doc, whether Raph believes it or not. It doesn't change the fact that we've missed something. I haven't put the emphasis on Mike that I could have. We've been playing things by ear, and it's not enough. We may not know what we're doing, but we have to start researching other...possibilities."

"Don, don't take this personally. You _know_ Raph says things like that when he's upset."

"Doc, it's not about me or him! Raph can run his mouth all day, and it doesn't make a difference. I want to get to the bottom of this: _that's_ what matters."

Luke swallowed. "So...what do you want to do?"

"I need to think some more," Donatello mumbled.

"Why don't you join Marc and I–"

"Not now, okay? I'll come around and bounce some stuff off you two after while."

The note of finality in Donatello's tone indicated that it was time for Luke to go.

"All right, Donny...Whenever you're ready."

Luke quietly shut the bedroom door behind him as he exited to the hall, and he shuffled out to the living area. The man found Leonardo sitting alone, staring into space as if it held the answers to all their questions. He couldn't be certain that Leonardo had heard him coming, but the blue-masked turtle snapped to attention a second later.

Leonardo gave him a bleak look. "Did Raph go off on someone? He came through here like a tornado a couple minutes ago."

"Donny," Luke supplied.

Leonardo gripped the back of the couch with clenched fingers. "I wish he wouldn't do that - it never helps anything."

"No arguments from me." Luke peered at Leonardo closely.

The oldest turtle was probably troubled about Raphael's behavior, but Luke was reading something else behind his dark eyes. Leo almost looked...haunted.

Luke came around the side of the couch and sat down. "Leo, what's going on?"

The turtle held his arms out helplessly. "Where should I start?"

"How about with what's bothering you the most?"

Leonardo's gaze trained down on the floor. "The way Mike sounded earlier today, when he was trying to catch his breath...It reminded me so much of Sensei."

Luke stiffened, and he couldn't find appropriate words right away. "Leo..."

Leonardo's eyes didn't meet him. "That isn't a sound I can forget, Doc. I remember sitting at Master Splinter's side while he was sleeping, even though I hated listening to him struggle. When I heard Mike wheezing today, I just froze up. I should have been doing something. Instead I stood there, holding onto Olivia. It felt like I'd taken a trip back in time to...something I never wanted to hear again."

Luke still didn't know what to say, but Leonardo finally looked up.

"Doc, it's not possible, is it? What Mike's going through isn't the same thing."

"Leo, there are a lot of factors that can contribute to that type of wheezing. We don't have any reason to assume that Mike's condition is related to your Sensei's."

"You don't see any similarities?"

Luke hesitated. "The problem with these symptoms is that they can apply to so_ many _different illnesses and diseases. We don't know enough to make any assumptions. I can tell you that your father's condition didn't present the way Mike's has. Splinter's illness was consistent. The supplemental oxygen helped him remain stable for a while, but he never got any better. With Mike it's been up and down and...unpredictable. We're not going to quit on him, Leo, I promise."

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "I know...and I realize that I'm being paranoid. It's only a memory that I wish I could get rid of."

Luke looked into his eyes steadily. "It's going to be all right. You just need to do what you've_ always _done, Leo, and help the family hold together through this."

Leonardo glanced over to the hallway. "Maybe I should talk to Donny."

"He didn't sound receptive when I left him, Leo. I think he wants some space, but you know your brother better than I do."

The turtle massaged his temples with a sigh. "Isn't this supposed to get easier at some point?"

"That's what we live and hope for."

"This doesn't feel right, all four of us being scattered to our respective corners. I'm just not sure who to deal with first."

Luke patted his shell. "It's not your job to fix everything. Everyone _will _come back together. Don't get discouraged, okay? We've been through worse spots than this, right?"

Leonardo's eye-ridges rose. "Don't tempt the fates, Doc."


	7. Comfort

Michelangelo eyed Marcus hopefully as the doctor unhooked him from the remaining monitor. The orange-masked turtle had spent an uncomfortable night in the Lab, and he was eager to be free of the lines that had been tethering him down like a dog on a leash.

"You're really gonna turn me loose, Marc?"

"With some boundaries, Mikey," Marcus said pointedly. "You're still going to have to endure a new battery of tests, but Luke, Donny, and I need to coordinate on some things first. Until then, you've got to take it easy, no matter how you feel. Don't do anything to raise your heart-rate, and stay off your feet as much as you can."

"Are you prescribing a day of lounging and video games for me, Marc?"

The dark-haired man smiled fondly. "Sure - you've got my blessing."

"What about eating?"

"If you're hungry feel free, just don't overdo it. If you start having any trouble breathing-"

"I'll tell someone," Mike interrupted. "But I really _didn't _feel it coming yesterday, Marc. I remember breathing a little hard, but things get fuzzy after that. You believe me, don't you? I wouldn't ignore it."

Marcus nodded, unable to hide the troubled look in his brown eyes.

Marc's glance made Michelangelo feel self-conscious, and the turtle fidgeted uneasily on the edge of the bed. "It was kind of like taking a trip to your world, Marc. That was scary."

The man broke eye contact briefly. "It _can_ be scary. You did well with it though. You didn't panic, and that's the important thing."

If anyone could understand what Mike had experienced the day before, it was Marcus. The man's life-long battle with asthma made him the perfect person for the turtle to question further.

"Would something like an inhaler help me?" Mike wondered.

Marc's shoulders rose slightly. "It's something we could look into, but we couldn't go the conventional route. Donny and Luke would probably have to adapt existing medication, but that's nothing they haven't done before."

"What kind of tests do you have to do?" Mike asked nervously.

Marcus shook his head. "You know you can trust us, Mike. Try not to worry about anything in the meantime, and we'll tell you more when we can get some consensus between the three of us."

_Easier said than done._

Michelangelo slowly rose to his feet, and was relieved when he didn't feel dizzy. He took a couple of experimental steps, and exhaled when he found his balance. "Do you have to report in to St. Joseph's today?"

"I have a couple of consultations, and a follow-up appointment for this afternoon."

Mike made a face. "You didn't have to stay overnight, Marc."

"I wanted to though," he said lightly, and clapped Mike on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, huh? I'll be back with April tonight, and maybe we'll bring some takeout down. Would you be up for that?"

"Like I'm gonna say no? Thanks for being here, Marc, but you don't have to rush back just on my account."

"I'll call you guys to get your orders later." The man grinned, acting like he hadn't even heard what the turtle said.

* * *

><p>Mike smiled when his saw Raphael in the living area, and offered his fist to his brother. The red-masked turtle scowled rather than bumping it.<p>

"C'mon, gimme some love, Raphy. It wasn't the end of the world."

"It wasn't _good _either, bonehead. What the shell was that? Are you gonna tell me you didn't feel anything weird before it happened?" Raphael demanded.

Mike shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you. I was fine - or I thought I was. When I sat down it was like this curtain came over me, and that was it. I don't remember anything else, not until I woke up to see Donny."

"You scared me," Raphael said accusingly, almost as if Mike had done it on purpose.

"I'm sorry," the orange-masked turtle mumbled. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Our girls are coming home early."

Michelangelo's eyes went wide. "_Shell, _did somebody tell them about yesterday?"

"Not yet, Mike, but you know they're gonna hear about it. You don't think you can keep your wife outta the loop, do you?"

"But they didn't cut it short 'cause of me?"

"Nah, Jen just decided she felt up to driving them back through the night."

"Where are _your_ girls?"

"Kitchen," he answered. "Kari doesn't need to be on the surface until this afternoon. She's got some big meeting with a new Company. Her choreography is getting a lot of attention now," Raphael added proudly.

"That's awesome. She's really good, bro. She and Calley could be a two-woman show."

"They make a great team, and they're both happy." Raph finally grinned.

Michelangelo glanced around the room, then back at his brother. "Have you seen Donny around?" Mike was surprised when Raphael winced.

"He, uh...he might be upset, Mikey. I came down on him hard last night."

"_Raph_!"

"Look, I _know_, okay? I was mad and scared. I'm gonna fix it."

Michelangelo's blue eyes hardened. "He puts all kinds of pressure on himself as it is, Raph. Why the shell do you have to make it worse?"

"I said I'd fix it, didn't I? He's been in the dojo for awhile, and I was gonna go talk to him. I just don't wanna interrupt too soon."

"Do us all a favor, and go interrupt," Mike said flatly.

Raphael muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he got to his feet. "I'd better grab some insurance first."

Michelangelo was a little bewildered when Raphael went into the kitchen, but understood what his brother meant when he came out of the room with Olivia in his arms.

_Nice insurance, bro_, he thought with secret amusement. _It's a lot harder to stay mad at you with the baby in play. Not that Donny stays mad at _anybody_. Geesh, I wonder what he said to him? It's probably better not to know._

Michelangelo was fingering the remote control when Karina ducked out of the kitchen, and she gave the turtle a smile.

"Nice to see you up, Mike."

Mike flashed a grin in return. "Yeah, they took off the leash for now. What do I smell you doing in there?"

"Well, I was just about to put my bread-pudding in the oven-"

"Nuh-uh!" he interjected happily. "What's the occasion?"

"You are, silly. Luke said you'd probably be hungry, so I decided to make you a treat."

"You're _sooo_ good to me."

"It's going to have to bake for a while, so get comfortable. Do you want anything else while you're waiting?"

He shook his head.

"Then I'll get it into the oven, and I'll join you out here."

"Yeah? You don't have anything else to do? I know you've got a meeting later."

"Life isn't all work, Mikey."

The turtle gave her a thumbs-up, and settled back against the couch cushions to find a better position. He was eager to see Rebecca, but was not looking forward to his wife finding out what had happened. Mike shivered at the onset of a chill, and yanked for the blanket off the back of the couch.

_Doc and Marc aren't running around in a panic. If they were scared, I'd know it. So why am I still this nervous?_

Donny. It wasn't like him to avoid the "action", even if Raphael had helped pile guilt on higher.

_He's nervous, and he doesn't want me to know it._

Mike shut down the thought before it could go any further, and absent-mindedly began clicking through the on-screen guide on the TV. Titles of programs flew by, but he wasn't really paying attention. He caught himself feeling more weighed down, and submitted to lying on the arm of the couch. Mike hadn't slept for more than half an hour at a time in the Lab, constantly disturbed by the equipment measuring his life signs.

_I sure hope the worst of this is behind me, but something tells me it's not gonna be so easy. I wish Donny would talk to me._

Mike's head turned as he heard a soft _thump_ on the back of the couch, and he saw Tiger arching her back in a long stretch. The turtle held out two fingers toward the feline, and smiled when she rubbed her head against his hand. Tiger hopped down and landed on his side, pawing at the blanket for a moment before choosing a spot. Her steady purr was as comforting as the warmth that radiated from her body.

"You gonna be my heater, Tiger? That works for me; just keep your claws to yourself, 'Mighty Hunter'. You don't need to show off for Raph right now."

Michelangelo felt some of the tension melting from his frame with the presence of the beloved cat, and his eyes felt heavier than before. They were starting to close when he heard Karina re-enter the room, and the turtle willfully opened them.

"You okay, Mike?"

"Uh huh, just kinda tired."

"Get some rest,_ hermano_." She smiled at him impishly. "Your wife will have less to complain about when she gets home."

* * *

><p>Donatello had been sitting motionless across from Leonardo on the mat for a few minutes now, but immediately opened his eyes when he heard someone at the door. He couldn't resist a chuckle when Olivia crawled into the room.<p>

"What's this, a fugitive?"

Leonardo opened his eyes too, and stretched his arms out behind his head. "I doubt she comes alone, Don."

Sure enough, Raphael stuck his head in the door a moment later. "I come in peace."

Donatello gazed at him passively. "C'mon in, Raph."

The red-masked turtle bent down to pick up the baby, and carried Olivia over to the mat with him. Raphael plunked down beside the other two turtles, and met Donatello's eyes after a beat of hesitation.

"Don, I'm really sorry about last night. I was outta line. I was upset, so I said some stupid stuff...Not that it's an excuse."

"Raph, I know where you were coming from."

"Mikey wants to see ya, bro."

Donny nodded meekly. "It's hard to face him without answers, but I know I can't stay away either."

Leonardo looked between Donatello and Raphael. "This isn't the time for _any_ of us to be separating. We'll face this the same way we have everything else. Are you calmer now, Donny?"

Donatello rose stiffly, not finding the looseness he'd hoped for. "I'm fine, Leo," he lied. "I figure I should check on Mike."

"Are you sure we're okay, Don?" Raphael asked.

"Sure, Raph, I'm used to you."

Leonardo laughed softly. "If you aren't used to him by now, I'd call it a lost cause."

Raphael got to his feet and offered Donatello an arm, but even after Donny embraced him lightly, he still looked sheepish.

"Let it go, Raph. Let's not waste any more time and thought on this."

The sound of the main door distracted Donatello from saying anything else, and he glanced out into the hall. He exhaled softly when he saw the girls, and trotted over to meet them. The raven-haired woman beamed at Donatello as he gathered her in his arms, and she bent in to kiss him. He ended up embracing her more tightly than he meant to, and shuddered as he tried to control emotion that had been bottled up.

Jenna's forehead creased as she peered at Donatello, concern registering in her light blue eyes.

_Shell, please tell me I don't look that bad._

"Donny, what-"

He shook his head to cut her off, and Jenna let go of him. "I'll grab your things, Jen."

Donatello slung her bag over his shoulder, and he offered her a lingering glance to communicate that she should follow him. His wife took the hint and trailed the turtle back to their bedroom. Behind the safety of closed doors Jenna's fingers latched onto his arm, guiding Donny to put the bag down.

"Donny, what's _wrong_?"

The purple-masked turtle heaved a heavy sigh. "Mike had another issue while you were gone. He passed out yesterday, and stopped breathing for at least a couple of minutes."

Jenna's form went rigid. "Is he okay? Why didn't anyone call?"

Donatello shook his head again, and Jenna drew both arms around his neck.

"_Talk_ to me."

"We don't know what's wrong, Jen, but it's more serious than we originally thought."

"If you don't know what it is, can you be sure of that?"

"Jen, he stopped _breathing_. People don't just up and quit breathing without a reason. I haven't been able to face him."

"Not since yesterday? Donny, he relies on you so much..."

"I know that, but I can't shut off the questions running through my mind. I barely slept. Then I heard Luke and Marc talking this morning, and Doc said something about doing a lung biopsy."

"And that's bad."

"It certainly isn't good."

Jenna exhaled deeply. "And you haven't talked to Mike."

"No."

"What about your brothers?"

"I can't, not yet. There's no sense in scaring them unless I have to."

"But if it's bothering you-"

"Jen, please don't say anything about it. Promise me."

The woman gave him a stern look, but then buried her head against his chest. "Aw, Donny...Are you ever going to stop trying to bear the entire weight of the world on your shoulders?"

"I'm talking to _you_, aren't I?" he mumbled wearily.

Jenna gave him a light shove, and he allowed her to push him down on the mattress. "You can't keep avoiding Mike."

"Agreed. I'll talk to him right now."

Jenna shook her head. "I saw him resting, Don, like you should be. Heck, I was up all night too. I could use a few winks myself."

She pulled the rubber band out of her hair, and shook out her ponytail with a secretive smile.

"Is _that_ supposed to make me tired?" He grinned.

Jenna snuggled down beside him. "I'll behave myself. Sleep now; play later."

"Sure, now that you got my hopes up and everything."

Jenna chuckled and leaned over to kiss him again. He cupped her cheek lightly in his hand as he kissed her back.

"I'm glad you're home, Jen."

"Me too."_  
><em>


	8. Lull

*** Ahem. I forgot to mention a few chapters back that I don't own anything related to the TMNT. But I think you knew that. ;) Today's chap will be your last chance to breathe for a while...so enjoy it.**

* * *

><p>Michelangelo was comfortable and warm, possessing no desire to move from underneath the covers. Rebecca was lying so close to him that he could feel her steady breathing. The orange-masked turtle opened his eyes, and found the young woman in the exact position in which she'd fallen asleep, brushing the side of his plastron. Light brown curly hair was splayed around her face, and he imagined he could see a halo while she slept.<p>

Mike could remember life before Rebecca. It had only been a little over a year since he'd met the woman through a series of unlikely circumstances, and he had fallen in love with her. He'd been prepared to live without a companion before, even after all of his brothers had someone of their own. Now the thought of living without Becky was one of the most heart-rending things his mind could conceive.

_She was less upset about the "episode" I had than I thought she'd be. Shell, it's not like Beck's mad at me for being sick. She just wants to know that Donny and the docs are doing everything they can._

Over the last week since the incident Mike had been through numerous minor tests, but he _wasn't_ looking forward to the eventuality of the biopsy Luke had told him about. He'd felt normal for the most part over the last couple of days, except for the paranoia that was lingering in the back of his mind. Mike hadn't asked about returning to training, and he honestly wasn't in a hurry this time.

Mike had found small ways to limit himself further, to help keep everyone else satisfied. Going to bed sooner had been an easy concession, because Rebecca had taken to retiring to their room earlier in the evening. He couldn't help but wonder if her new "tiredness" actually had more to do with getting _him_ to sleep sooner, but he didn't mind the extra alone time with her.

If it was up to Mike, he would have enjoyed lying there with her for several more minutes. The desire had no sooner flickered through his mind, than the sound of Olivia crying washed over his consciousness. It wasn't extremely loud, but Rebecca slept almost as lightly as he did. It only took a few seconds before the sound of the baby's crying rapidly retreated, yet Becky was already stirring.

Michelangelo was grinning by the time her blue-green eyes focused on him, and a smile immediately played on her lips as well.

"Hey, Mikey," she said a little sleepily.

"G'morning. Did you get enough sleep?"

Becky lifted her head. "Mmhm. I don't remember waking up once. You?"

"I always sleep better when you're with me."

Rebecca nuzzled his cheek, then she started to sit up the rest of the way.

"What's your hurry?" he protested.

"My back." She groaned. "I don't know what the deal is. I must have slept wrong at the hotel, because my lower back has been bothering me ever since."

Mike gave her a pained look. "Maybe stretching would help. I could show you a couple of things."

Rebecca nodded. "I'll try anything once, Mikey. Let me change into something decent, and we can look into that."

Mike rose from the mattress as his wife headed for her dresser drawers. "Do you want some breakfast first?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Maybe some toast. Last weekend didn't do me _any_ favors, Mikey. I've had heartburn almost every day. I guess I should be eating better."

The young woman pulled a long sleeve shirt over her head, and paused for a long moment in front of the mirror. Her posture screamed of insecurity, and Michelangelo hated it. Rebecca didn't allow the nerves to show often, but the turtle knew how self-conscious she still felt sometimes. Rebecca was built differently than the other girls, and she had a bad habit of comparing herself to them. Becky was the shortest of their human friends, standing only a couple of inches taller than Mike. It was a perfect situation as far as he was concerned, but height wasn't the true issue.

Rebecca had muscular legs that resulted from physical therapy for an old injury, but she was slightly stocky. Calley had a strict dancer's form, and Karina's workouts maintained the figure she'd attained as a long-time dancer as well. Jenna was no better. Becky found all three women striking in their own way, and she had told him more than once that she didn't belong in the same category as they did. Even with the confidence Rebecca had gained in the last year, Michelangelo knew that her self-image was going to take more time to heal.

He silently walked toward his wife, and took a position behind her. The orange-masked turtle ran a hand over her curls, and wrapped the other arm around her waist. Rebecca glanced over her shoulder at him, and leaned against the turtle after a beat of hesitation.

"Sorry, I know I'm doing it," she said softly. "I'll stop obsessing."

"Obsess all you want, just make it over the right stuff," he said lightly, and then squeezed her tighter. "You're beautiful, Beck."

She smiled at him in the mirror. "You're sweet, Mike."

"But you know it's true."

Rebecca turned around, and she allowed the turtle to wrap both arms around her. Michelangelo sighed inwardly, as he caught himself wishing that she could just see what he did when he looked at her. Holding her felt so right that he couldn't bear to let go for a little longer, and she didn't seem to be in a hurry either.

"Let's go see what Olivia was carrying on about," Rebecca finally said.

In a flash, the self-depreciating girl who never felt good enough was gone, replaced by the strong yet calming presence that she normally projected. Rebecca's fingers played across his wrist as she pulled him toward the door, and Mike grasped her hand as they headed downstairs.

"Aw, look. The lovebirds are up." Raphael smirked from the living area, but was quickly apologetic. "I hope Olivia didn't wake you."

"I was already awake, Raphy," Mike assured him.

"And I _needed_ to be up," Rebecca added. "Your brother's going to help me fix this issue with my back."

Raphael's eye-ridges rose. "When you need someone to teach you for real, come look me up."

The red-masked turtle easily ducked the couch cushion Mike chucked at him.

"I taught_ you _a couple of things the last time we were on the mat," Mike challenged.

"_Again_, I was goin' easy on you, Chucklehead."

"Enjoy that excuse, bro, 'cause you can't use it forever."

* * *

><p>Raphael gave Karina a lop-sided grin as the woman breezed through the living area rapidly and raced up the stairs. Karina was running a little late, or at least that's what she'd proclaimed when she woke up that morning. Olivia was playing with a set of plastic rings at Raphael's feet, and using the couch to pull herself up occasionally to get a couple of cheerios from him.<p>

The TV was on as usual, but he wasn't really watching it. Raphael raised a hand in greeting as Calley came down the hall. The young woman paused to lean against the back of the recliner, and automatically tossed the fringed bangs out of her eyes. Raphael nearly chuckled again with the remembrance of how quickly she had asked Karina to cut the extensions out of her hair after the last show. Calley's signature short style had emerged once more before that evening was over.

"Cutting your hair might have been jumping the gun a little," Raphael teased. "What if the next people want you to have the extensions too?"

Calley rolled her eyes. "I'll cross that bridge if I get there."

"Will you find out anything for sure today?"

"The meetings are informational up front, but they'll probably start in on another set of try-outs the last half of the day."

Raphael shook his head. "I don't see why you should have to try out again, what with the show you already put on."

"It's a standard practice, Raph."

"I don't care. After seeing you last time...You were really something else, sis."

Calley smiled, and her shoulders rose awkwardly. The young woman had never been very good at accepting compliments, but at least she was trying now. She came around the front of the chair as Olivia babbled in a continuous string of sounds that almost seemed conversational. The young woman sat down while the baby crawled her direction, and Olivia balanced on her knees to show Calley the plastic rings she was grasping in both fists.

"Those are nice, Liv." Calley laughed as the seven-month-old smacked the rings together a couple of times, obviously enjoying the sound.

Karina flew back downstairs, and paused behind Raphael. "Sorry I'm so rushed this morning, Raph, but Calley and I really need to get going."

The turtle stood up to draw her face toward him, and kissed the woman goodbye. "I'll still be here when you get back, Kari, for a while anyway. Fearless and I are probably gonna run a patrol tonight."

"Well, you're being 'daddy' all day, so you deserve some play-time too." She chuckled, and bent down to reach Olivia on the rug. "Goodbye, _angelito_. Be good for Daddy, and Mommy will see you later."

Karina kissed Olivia's forehead, then nodded at Calley. "C'mon, _hermana_. It's time to get ourselves to the surface."

"Ain't you forgetting something?" Raphael held up a set of car-keys with a grin, and tossed them into her cupped hands. "You won't get far without the keys, Kari."

"You're forgetting something else too," Leonardo called, as he strode swiftly down the hall. "I wanted to walk you guys to the van entrance."

"Keep 'em safe, Leo," Raphael offered tongue-in-cheek.

Not long after they'd left, Olivia's small hand tapping his leg got Raphael's attention.

"Dadadadada." She gazed at him plaintively with wide amber eyes.

The turtle reached for the forgotten bag of cheerios. "Sorry, Liv, you want some more?"

Raphael got down on the rug beside her, and offered Olivia a few more pieces of cereal. He'd come to love these quiet moments, as much as he enjoyed the rest of his family. By the time Leonardo came back the cheerios had been abandoned again, and Raphael was relishing the sound of her giggling as he raced a toy car around her.

The blue-masked turtle leaned casually against the couch. "It's too bad you don't like your kid, Raph."

Raphael threw a grin his direction. "Yeah, this really sucks, Leo. You should try it sometime."

Leonardo chuckled. "I wouldn't oppose it. Olivia's getting bigger so fast, and I swear it sounds like she's trying to talk to us."

The two oldest turtles spent the remainder of the morning alternating between entertaining Olivia and ribbing each other. The other boys had mostly been out of the way with their own wives, but a little after 12, Donatello and Jenna finally emerged from the Lounge. The young woman had been playing with some piano parts for a new song; an exercise that she and Donny often did together.

Jenna flashed Raphael and Leonardo a smile as she strolled through the living area. "Anybody getting hungry yet?"

Raphael cast her a wolfish look. "Is that a trick question, Jen?"

"Do you have something in mind?" Leonardo asked.

"Not really. I think I'll just see what strikes my fancy," Jenna replied, and hooked an arm through Donatello's. "Do you feel like helping me, Don , or do you need to get back to _real _work?"

Donny shook his head firmly. "I told you I wanted to spend some time with_ you_."

"Atta-girl, Jen, a little manual labor will never hurt him." Raphael laughed.

Donatello shot him a dirty look, just as the red-masked turtle was picking Olivia up again.

"I think _this _girl is about ready for a nap. You want your bottle, Liv?"

The baby kicked her legs lightly as he carried her into the kitchen to retrieve one of the prepared bottles from the refrigerator. Jenna was already riffling through the fridge when he got there, and she handed over a bottle when she saw him coming.

Raphael stuck the bottle into the warmer on the counter, and frowned as Olivia squirmed harder in his arms.

"Settle down, _Kouen_, you're takin' a nap. I'm not gonna have you being all grumpy when your Mama gets home."

Raphael balanced Olivia on the counter top, and kept an arm around her while he waited for the bottle to finish heating. The turtle was just reaching pull it out of the warmer, when a sudden powerful jolt underneath him nearly made him lose his footing. He gasped in surprise as he braced against the counter more firmly with one arm, and yanked Olivia up with the other. The strange sensation didn't end with the initial jolt, but continued in shaking so hard that he was afraid to even try to move.

The deafening roar of what sounded kind of like the subway filled the room, and he clutched the baby tighter against his plastron, as if the floor could disappear under them at any moment. The next thing he knew, the entire room went black.


	9. Packing

***I would like to state a couple of disclaimers before I go any further. First of all, I conceived this story last year before the incredible tragedy a few months ago in Japan. This fic is in no way an attempt to emulate or recreate the devastation that changed so many lives overseas. **

**Secondly...I love suspenseful disaster movies. Who doesn't like to get their heart racing? With Refuge, however, I attempted to take a more **_**realistic**_** route. A common theme in these "end of the world" movies is to take a disaster and blow it out of proportion, until it becomes the worst case scenario you can possible imagine (and most of the great "escapes" and unlikely survival tactics are questionable at best). **

**I did my research with Refuge (read, **_**a lot**_** of research) in order to write not only the most likely type of earthquake that could hit New York City, but what the effects of said earthquake would be. Now that my speech is done...please enjoy the chapter. ;)**

* * *

><p>Leonardo crouched low to the ground in the living area, not even daring to breathe as the earthquake continued. When the electricity went out he was tempted to immediately search out an alternate light source, but common sense told him to stay put until the shaking was finished. The blue-masked turtle could hear things falling, both in the living area and in the adjacent rooms. The loudest crashing of all made him stiffen. The direction seemed to indicate that it had come from Donatello's Lab.<p>

His heart kept racing as the rumbling faded away, and it was replaced with a plaintive wail.

_Olivia!_

Leonardo shook off the remaining goose bumps as he climbed to his feet, and felt around on his belt for his phone. He opened the screen so he could use what tiny illumination the back light provided. He had taken one step toward the kitchen, when the door was flung open with a tremendous _bang_. The figure behind it was in such a hurry that the blue-masked turtle was nearly run over by him.

"Sorry!" Donny's voice rang out as he tried to move on.

Leonardo caught him firmly by the arm. "What are you doing? Is everyone all right in there?"

"Far as I could tell! Excuse me, bro, I have to go double-check the gas line!"

He instantly let go of his younger brother. "Do you need help?"

"No - just look for Mike and Becky!"

Raphael and Jenna came out of the kitchen before Leonardo could call anything else after the purple-masked turtle. The young woman was carrying a _real_ flashlight, and Raphael was trying to calm down a crying Olivia.

Despite what Donny had said, Leonardo couldn't resist looking them over himself. "You guys are okay? No one's hurt?"

Raphael shook his head. "I can't help feeling like we ought to be _doing_ something, Fearless." His tone was even, but the red-masked turtle's posture communicated his nerves loud and clear.

"First get Olivia calmed down if you can. We _do_ need to act quickly, but we have to get everyone together first."

Leonardo turned as he heard another crash come from the second floor, which was followed by rapid footsteps and a shout.

"Mike, watch the glass! I'm fine - don't go hurting yourself!"

Leonardo nearly took Jenna's flashlight so he could run upstairs, but Mike's voice carried down to them before he could make his move.

"Hey, guys! Is everybody cool down there?"

"Yeah, Mike, we're fine!" Leonardo called. "What's going on up _there_?"

"We're on our way down!" Mike answered, and the beam of his flashlight filtered over the railing. "Just had a little mishap."

"Or a big mishap!" Rebecca announced ruefully.

In the sparse glow provided by Jenna's flashlight, Leonardo saw Mike's hand hovering protectively around Rebecca's back as they made their way down the stairs.

"Where's Donny?" Mike asked at once.

"Checking the gas line," Raphael replied. "Does anyone else think we should be checking on_ him_?"

"It might be-" Leonardo didn't get to finish his sentence before Mike cut him off.

"Beck, you _are_ bleeding!"

"It's just my hand, Mikey, and it isn't very deep."

"How would you know? You can hardly see it in this light."

"Right, okay," Leonardo interrupted decisively. "Jenna, go in the kitchen and find a towel or something to help Becky keep some pressure on her hand. Raph, you stay here for a minute and keep trying to settle down Olivia. Mike, you can come with me; we should get a few of the electric torches. There ought to be a fair amount of juice left over on them from the Congo."

No one argued. As he and Mike slipped down the hall to the largest supply closet, Leonardo flipped his phone open again. Concern for Calley and all their friends on the surface was hitting him like a load of bricks. When he traced a finger across the keypad, he noticed that he didn't have any bars that would indicate a signal.

_Oh shell, why would that happen?_

The blue-masked turtle glanced up to find Michelangelo staring at him.

"This is a really big deal, isn't it?" The normally jovial quality to his brother's tone was non-existent.

Leonardo shook his head. "We don't know anything yet, Mikey. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We have to concentrate on what we need to do."

Michelangelo nodded grimly, and Leonardo put his phone away so that he could take his own advice.

They each gathered lanterns in both hands and carried them back to the living area. In the increased light that the torches provided, Leonardo scanned everyone more closely. With the exception of Rebecca's left hand, no one appeared to be hurt. Leonardo wanted to look around the rest of the Den to start assessing the damage, but the urge to check on Donatello was strong.

"Leo, have you got any signal on your phone?" Raphael asked suddenly.

Leonardo focused a longer gaze on his red-masked brother, and realized how shaken he truly was. "No, I just checked too."

When Raphael's shoulders slumped further, he knew exactly what he had to be thinking.

_Calley, Karina...They have to be all right. There's no reason to assume the worst. We don't even know how strong the quake was._

"Everybody stay here," Leonardo instructed. "I'll be right back."

The blue-masked turtle cut through the hall to get into the utility room where Donatello was working. Leonardo hesitated in the doorway as he watched Donny get to his feet and retrieve the flashlight he'd strategically positioned to illuminate his workspace.

"What's the deal, Don? Is it fixable?"

"I wasn't trying to fix it," Donny said quickly. "I had to make sure that the automatic shutdown valve kicked in, Leo. One of the pipes feeding the gas line has ruptured." He dusted off his hands and strode to meet Leonardo. "We need to get out of here."

"I was thinking that we should get some idea of how much damage the Den suffered, so we have a clue of what will need to be fixed before we return."

"No, Leo, _forget_ about checking for damage. We have to get out of here!" Donatello swallowed sharply, and forced a quieter tone. "If we don't leave soon, we might not get the chance to."

"Are you expecting the worst?"

"I don't know what to think, but that earthquake didn't _feel_ minor. Even a moderate quake could cause serious damage if the epicenter was in the wrong position, and that's not taking aftershocks into account."

"You think we're going to ha-"

"Leo, I can't say _anything_ for certain, except that it would be in our best interest to get above ground as soon as possible!"

Leonardo exhaled deeply. "Okay. C'mon, we need to talk to the others."

Nerves skyrocketed through the blue-masked turtle's body like fireworks going off in succession as he took a stance in the middle of the living area to speak to everyone at once.

"Guys, we have to leave, and we don't have any more time to lose. We need to pack some things - just the essentials. We can only bring what we can easily carry."

The room was frozen after his blunt announcement with the exception of Donatello, who was nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

"This isn't a drill," Donny added. "We need to leave the Den as soon as we can."

"What's essential?" Mike piped up. "Are you talking like an overnight bag, or like a ten-day camping trip?"

Donatello shook his head. "Pack what we'd need to survive, and anything small enough that you can't live without." Without another word, the purple-masked turtle made a bee-line for the Lab.

"Now _move!" _Leonardo commanded to snap the others out of their daze.

As Raphael headed for the stairs, Leonardo caught him by the shoulder.

"You're going to have to pack for Karina too."

Raphael threw a glance at Mike and Rebecca, who were already climbing ahead of him. "Are we coming back here, Leo? What did Genius tell you?"

"We don't know anything for sure yet, Raph, except that the danger is too great to stay. Get Becky's help packing if you need it, or I can send Jen upstairs too."

Raphael nodded. "If one of 'em can just take Liv off my hands for a few minutes, that would be help enough. She hasn't let go of me since the shaking started."

Leonardo gave him a pained look. "Poor girl..."

Donatello's cry of exclamation cut off anything else Leonardo could have said.

"I'd better go check on him, Raph." Leonardo spun around and ran back toward the Lab.

He couldn't stop the gasp that erupted when he saw the state of his younger brother's workspace. The room was only partially illuminated by the light of a couple of lanterns, but the damage was obvious. Leonardo mutely looked around at shattered glass and metal. One of the computers was still intact on the desk, barely hanging on by the power cord. The other monitors were in pieces on the floor. The blue-masked turtle couldn't help staring at the naked wall where the screens had been positioned for several years. It took him a few seconds to stop digesting the damage, and look over at Donatello, who was digging through a pile of debris where shelves used to stand.

"Donny..." Leo's voice was so strained, he wasn't even certain if his brother had heard him.

"Leo, don't you need to get some things together?"

The flat emotionless tone of Donatello's voice worried Leonardo more than if the turtle had shouted at him.

"Do you need help?"

Donatello shook his head slowly. "I...I'm not sure where to start. It's hard to say what we'll be able to use."

Leonardo bent down to his level on the ground. "Try and concentrate on what we can't replace readily. I'll help you look through this stuff, okay?"

"It's fine, Leo, you should focus on your own things first."

As Donatello massaged his temple with his free hand, Leonardo realized that he was clutching what looked like his scanner in his other hand.

"Is your scanner..." Leonardo's throat constricted as he went to ask the question.

"It got crushed. It could be salvageable, but I need to get a look at it in better lighting."

"So...then we can't track the others, can we? We have no way of finding them," Leonardo murmured.

"Not as of this moment," Donatello replied stiffly.

"And we don't have a cell signal."

"I'm getting interference on the boosters. It might be a different story when we make the surface, but if the cell phone towers have suffered damage, it could be difficult to achieve a signal at all."

"Okay, one thing at a time," Leonardo reminded himself out loud. "First we have to get out, then we can concentrate on tracking down the others."

"It's broad daylight up there, Leo, and we don't have the van. We're going to need to get some clothes on to help us blend in. I'm not sure about camouflaging our faces, but we can cross that bridge in a little while. In the meantime, you need to get packing."

With difficulty Leonardo left the lab, and trudged in the direction of the room he shared with Calley on the ground floor. With surprise he realized that his Master's walking stick wasn't in its normal place of honor on the wall, and he immediately bent down to search for it. The blue-masked turtle gripped it reverently when he located the stick in the shadows on the floor, and only then felt Mike's eyes on him.

The orange-masked turtle's face was suddenly heavy with understanding. "You don't think we're coming back, do you?" he asked softly.

"Nothing is certain, Mike. Don wants us to prepare for the worst, so that's what I'm doing."

Michelangelo looked over his shoulder. "I brought a couple of bags down for Beck and me, and now she's helping Raph. He's got way too many things to do. Should I be thinking about provisions, Leo?"

Leonardo hesitated, and nodded. "We can't afford to be loaded down though, Mike. Don't pack very much. We should still be able to either buy or forage things from the surface too. I know that Karina always keeps a few bottles prepared for Olivia, so make sure you bring _all_ of those."

"What about water, Leo?"

"Again...I don't think we should burden ourselves too much. Get some bottles pulled together, but be frugal with space."

Mike's brow furrowed, then his eyes actually brightened a little. "We still have filters left over from the Congo too. Want me to pull a couple?"

"Do that, and see if Don will let you help him. His Lab is in shambles, and I'm pretty sure he's overwhelmed. I've got to get things packed for Calley and me."

Michelangelo turned for the Lab without even answering him, and Leonardo continued down the hall to the bedroom. As the blue-masked turtle bent down to retrieve the duffle bags they stored under the bed, he was met by something else. The flicking tail startled him at first, until he realized that it was Tiger.

The turtle dropped on his knees by the bed, and pulled the comforter up off the floor so he could get a better look at the animal.

"Tiger, c'mon," he coaxed gently. "Come out. It's okay, you're all right."

The feline only meowed in response, and Leonardo tried to reach her under the bed.

"C'mon. You have to come with us, so you've got to get out of there."

After a few more seconds of encouragement, he felt the cat brush his arm on her way out. She stared at Leonardo with yellow eyes, as though demanding an explanation for what had happened. When she showed no further interest in moving, the turtle set her down on top of the bed, and scratched her ears reassuringly.

"Didn't think we'd leave without you, did you? This team doesn't leave anyone behind."


	10. Evacuate

Helping Donatello sift through tools in the Lab was doing nothing for Michelangelo's nerves. The more time he spent in the disturbed presence of his normally reassuring older brother, the more concerned Mike became. He knew the loss of equipment had to be devastating to Donatello, but the purple-masked turtle didn't appear to be pining over any of it. Instead, Donny was moving quickly without making conversation, with a cold efficiency that left Michelangelo convinced of his brother's _true_ level of anxiety.

Donatello never slowed down until he got to the fridge, where he was now pondering the homemade formulas. The drugs that Donatello and Luke had specifically designed to suit the turtles' physiology weren't something he could easily leave behind.

"Mike." Donatello's voice finally broke the heavy silence. "I need a cooler."

"Big or small, bro?"

"Gonna have to be smaller, like maybe the one with the shoulder strap. We're going to have to travel light, but we can't go _completely_ unprepared," Don said bleakly.

"Okay, Donny. I'm on it."

The orange-masked turtle gratefully left the uncomfortable atmosphere of the Lab and headed for the kitchen. Everyone else was already gathered in the living area, with the exception of Raphael, who was coming down the steps.

"Hey, has anybody seen Tiger?" the red-masked turtle called.

Leonardo pointed to the pet carrier on the floor, and Raphael shook his head.

"It's not gonna work, Leo. No one needs to be hauling that carrier around. I've told you guys a hundred times - Tiger won't bolt. She knows how good she has it."

Leonardo hesitated from opening the crate. "I'm just trying to keep her safe."

"I know that, Fearless, but our hands are gonna be full as it is."

The blue-masked turtle shrugged. "If you say so, Raph. She's your cat..."

Michelangelo didn't bother to listen to any more of the conversation. He went straight to the pantry in the kitchen to find the cooler Donatello had requested. He was shocked by how quiet the others had gotten in the living area as he passed through a second time. Rebecca returned his questioning gaze, but her expression was impossible to read in the low light of the lanterns. He gave her arm a light squeeze as he stopped for a moment behind her.

"Is your hand okay?"

"It's fine, Mikey. It feels irrelevant right now."

"Donny should take a look at it."

"It can wait."

Michelangelo made a face, but it was pointless to argue with her.

Donatello was waiting beside another bag he'd packed in the Lab, and he motioned for Mike to drop the cooler beside the fridge. Donny hurriedly loaded formulas he'd already picked out, while Mike picked up his other bag. He waited for Donatello to finish packing the cooler, then led the way out of the Lab. Michelangelo looked over his shoulder as he sensed Donatello hesitating, and saw the purple-masked turtle casting a long look around the room.

When Donny felt his gaze, he instantly threw his shoulders back.

"Don...I'm sorry."

"I didn't lose everything," he said quietly. "My files, plans, medical journal, everything is backed up. I have a surviving laptop, and the scanner...well, I'm pretty sure I can fix it."

Mike's eyes went wide. "What happened? Is it busted?"

"It'll be all right," Donny reassured. "I've fixed it before, and I'll do it again. It wasn't destroyed; I doubt I'll have to start from scratch."

Michelangelo was comforted by the certainty in his voice, but it couldn't stop the lump from forming in his throat as he took his own last look at the Lab. Despite not knowing the first thing about how Donatello's inventions worked, Mike had spent countless hours in this room with him. He knew what the Lab represented to his brother, and it broke Mike's heart to see it like this. It was Donatello who had to urge him to leave the room.

"Let's go, Mikey. They're waiting on us."

Leonardo looked up expectantly as they joined them in the living area. "I think we should get dressed before we leave, so we don't have to rush to get clothes on later. And while we're at it, we need to figure out where we're going."

"Doc and Kat's building would be the closest, but I don't know if..." Donatello trailed off.

Mike gave him an anxious glance. "You don't know what, Don?"

"Nothing, there's no reason to worry yet."

"Genius, you may as well tell us what you're thinking," Raphael said gruffly.

Donatello couldn't shake the troubled look out of his brown eyes. "Going up in the daylight is dangerous enough for us, but with Olivia in our hands, it makes it even more difficult. There are probably going to be a lot of scared people up there, and most of them will be outdoors. The disguises will help, but it's still an awful risk. We don't have the van, so we're stuck on foot...At least until we get a hold of someone else."

"What about the Park?" Raphael suggested. "There's gotta be plenty of places we could hole up."

Leonardo nodded. "That's a really good idea, Raph."

"You don't have to sound shocked," the red-masked turtle returned. "Do you have some better plan?"

"I wasn't being sarcastic," Leonardo said reproachfully.

Raphael immediately looked away from Leo's gaze. "Sorry, I'm...a little wound up."

Leonardo gripped his shoulder briefly. "We're getting out of here...and we'll find some way to reconnect with the others."

Leo gazed around the circle of faces, and Michelangelo felt stronger at the sight of his oldest brother's confidence. The moment Leonardo broke eye contact, Michelangelo glanced around the Den as if he'd been drawn in by a magnet.

_Shell, why does it feel like I'm not gonna see this place again? _Mike hung his head, then shook it violently to dispel the unwanted thought. _Gotta stop assuming stuff like that. Donny never said we wouldn't be back. He hasn't_ said _anything...and maybe that's why I'm so nervous._

The group divided themselves and their luggage between two Sliders with Donatello and Leonardo in the lead with Jenna, and Mike and Raphael bringing up the rear with Becky and Olivia. The little turtle was still clinging to Raphael's leg, unwilling to let go of him though she had finally let him put her down. Michelangelo slid behind the control panel of the Slider, and kept a sharp eye out for the other vessel ahead of them.

Rebecca had been gradually inching closer to Mike, and he sensed her tension mounting with the passing minutes. He flashed the young woman what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

"Guess we're gearing up for another camping trip, huh, Beck? I promise not to lose us in Central Park."

Rebecca couldn't stifle a giggle, in spite of everything.

"Yeah, we're _with_ ya this time, so you really don't have to worry about the Chucklehead getting you lost," Raphael added.

The red-masked turtle laid a hand on top of Olivia's head comfortingly, as the little one appeared to be trying to climb up his leg. After another beat, Raphael pulled her up onto his lap.

"It's all right, _Kouen_," he said soothingly. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, kid. We're gonna find your Mama, and everything will be okay."

Olivia rested her head against his plastron, as her fingers tightly grasped the fabric of his clothing. Raphael nuzzled the top of her head again, and Michelangelo caught himself smiling.

_And I thought getting together with Karina turned Raph into a softie. Having a little girl pushed him over the top._

A creaking sound that echoed loudly through the tunnel had the effect of wiping the grin off his face, and caused Rebecca's hand to clench down on his arm. Raphael's eyes flicked over to meet Michelangelo's, even as he rubbed his palm lightly over Olivia's shell. Mike was so distracted that he almost didn't notice the other Slider slowing down. He had to make a couple of quick corrections to prevent their vessel from running into the other, and it didn't escape Leonardo's notice.

The blue-masked turtle's eyes narrowed slightly. "You've _got_ to pay attention, Mike."

"Sorry, Fearless," he squeaked sheepishly. "What's going on?"

"We need to batten down the hatches," Donatello answered.

Michelangelo thought he was kidding, but Donny's expression was grim.

"Was that the pipes we heard, Don?" Raphael asked.

"Yes," he replied. "The pipes aren't flexible, and they're probably under building pressure. I'm sure there have already been a few breaks in the sewer lines, and it's all going to add up. That means there could be some serious flooding."

"What are we doing down here then?" the red-masked turtle demanded. "Shouldn't we get to the surface?"

"We'll be in danger there too," Leonardo pointed out. "We'll be exposed the minute we set foot on the streets. I think we need to try and make the Park before we go topside."

"What's more likely to kill us, Leo?" Raphael's pitch rose, and the anxiety in his voice made Michelangelo wince.

Mike wasn't used to hearing that kind of open fear from his older brother, even though he knew it was influenced by Olivia.

Leonardo looked like he was bristling, but then he exhaled softly. "Let's make a decision then. I won't try to choose our path without hearing from all of you. I know where you stand, Raph-"

"Now hang on," Raphael interrupted. "I didn't say I vote that we go right up. I'm only pointing out that we could be putting ourselves in worse trouble by staying down here."

Leonardo looked annoyed, and Donny quickly spoke up before he could.

"Either way is a risk. We shouldn't hesitate here. Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it."

"How do we batten down the hatches?" Mike asked, hoping to get back on the original track.

"We need to strap the luggage down so that it's more secure, but we also have to be prepared to bail quickly," Donatello told him.

"How much warning are we talking about in the case of a flood?" Rebecca asked.

Donatello held up his arms uncertainly. "It's impossible to say."

"But you two think we ought to stay down here," Raphael filled in.

"For the time being," Donny said. "We're thinking of Olivia, Raph. We don't want to risk exposing her out in the open any more than we have to."

The red-masked turtle growled in irritation. "Why does it seem like we're _losing_ either way, Genius? You know more than you're saying. It feels like you're holding out on us."

"I'm not trying to hold out on you!" Donatello's anxiety made him sound more curt than he probably meant to. The purple-masked turtle rubbed his forehead as he held his silence for a couple of seconds. "I know possibilities of what _could_ happen, but I don't know which scenario is the most likely to play out. "

"And you can't tell us what we might be coming up against?"

"I could - I just don't see a point in harping on everything that could go wrong in the next few minutes."

"Then let's stop talking," Jenna suggested. "Maybe we could make a little more progress instead of sitting here like a bump on a log."

Michelangelo watched the way his brothers began tying down luggage on the other Slider, so that he could follow suit with their belongings. Rebecca moved to help the orange-masked turtle with the knots, waving off Raphael.

"You've got your hands full already, Raph. Mike and I can handle this."

Tiger weaved out from behind Raphael's legs, poking her head out further as Mike knelt in the Slider. Michelangelo reached to stroke her head as pity rose in his mind for the animal. He knew that a lot of cats didn't like water, but Raphael's pet had less of a reason to than most. She'd nearly drowned as an overgrown kitten, and it was the red-masked turtle's compassion that had rescued her from the sewer, and had given her a home that night. The amusement he felt at seeing Raphael so taken with the feline was a good memory, and a nice distraction from their current circumstances.

"Mikey!" Leonardo's voice shattered his line of thought, and made the orange-masked turtle's head jerk up.

"How's it coming over there?" Leonardo continued.

"I think we're set, Leo. Becky's double-checking my work."

The curly-haired woman straightened up from the bottom of the Slider. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak there was another loud creaking from the pipes, and a reverberating sensation seemed to shake the entire tunnel. Everyone was dead silent, and Mike felt his body tensing, as he waited for something to happen. The silence purveyed for a few more seconds after the rumbling stopped.

"_Now_ can we go?" Raphael growled as he switched Olivia off his plastron and onto his side.

"We'd better," Donatello said. "Watch your distance with us, Mike, and keep an ear out behind you! If you hear anything weird-"

"I'll sing ya a song about it if you want, Genius - let's GO!" Raphael called back.


	11. Theories

Leonardo hated Donatello's silence. The purple-masked turtle didn't even seem to be willing to look at him. He knew that his younger brother didn't want to get into possible complications, and Leo had been literally biting his tongue to keep from asking. Jenna was busying herself tugging at pieces of luggage, as if she hadn't already checked them six times. The blue-masked turtle cleared his throat, as he decided he couldn't hold his peace any longer.

"What's the plan if we run into trouble?" Leonardo intentionally avoided suggesting that they could get caught in a flood.

Donatello glanced over at him from the controls. "We'd have to make for the street level, no matter where we are. The Sliders can't skim the surface of rough water. They're equipped to serve as normal boats too, but they'll be overwhelmed by a strong current. The engines could buy us a little bit of time...We could probably make some headway against a current for a couple of minutes."

"A _couple_ of minutes?"

"Leo, we're talking about what could ostensibly be thousands upon thousands of pounds of water pressure. No machine I've ever built could withstand something like that. We'd be lucky to get any delay out of the engines at all."

"So we really don't want to get caught unaware," Leo said more to himself than to Donatello.

"There are ways that we could maybe create extra drag, and buy a little more time," Donny offered. "You noticed I left the grappling guns where we could easily reach them."

"Would the cables hold for long, do you think?"

The younger turtle's shoulders rose slightly. "Hopefully long enough."

"Donny, why didn't you want to consider heading uptown toward Doc and Kat? I know there's a reason you're having us take the longer way around to the Park, and I trusted you enough to go along without asking for an explanation. I'm only going to accept that for so long."

"I think we should stay away from the Upper East Side if we can help it," Donatello replied flatly. "Leo, we talked about possibilities before, remember? Don't make me guess about the situation on the surface."

Leonardo shot Jenna a look, and saw the way the woman was still fidgeting nervously with the bungee cord. It wasn't like Jenna to display her emotions so openly, and it indicated that Donatello had shared something with her.

"You already have theories rolling around in your mind. You just don't want to tell us," Leonardo asserted.

"It's all about the soil, Leo, that and the building materials," Donny answered. "A lot of Manhattan has been constructed on soil with a sandy composition. In the case of a strong enough earthquake, that means that the ground just liquefies. That's why I told you cave-ins could happen."

"What about the building materials?"

"Things aren't built according to earthquake codes, Leo. There are a ton of older brick buildings that simply aren't equipped to handle that type of stress. Even the tunnels and bridges aren't up to code. There's been a big push in recent years to reinforce the most vulnerable areas, but it's being implemented slowly. It's an expensive and time consuming process."

"Right, but like you've already said, we don't know how big the quake was."

Donatello gave him a serious look that was mixed with a tinge of guilt. "Leo, you saw what it did to my Lab, and we were more protected underground than the surface was. This wasn't a small earthquake. Even a moderately sized tremor could spell certain disaster for New York under the conditions I've described."

The anxiety in Donatello's voice was more pronounced than Leonardo had heard yet, and it suddenly dawned on him what his brother could be thinking. "You're worried about the others."

Donatello focused hard on the control panel for a few seconds without speaking. "I'm trying not to think that way, but yes. I'm _very_ worried about them. Doc and Kat live in a historic building, Leo. The chances of it surviving a quake without suffering significant structural damage don't seem-"

A distant rumbling cut Donatello off mid-sentence, but the sound was different than that which the earth had made only minutes ago. The purple-masked turtle stopped the Slider as the roar got louder, and the unmistakable crashing of falling debris echoed through the tunnel ahead of them. Leonardo threw a glance back to make sure that Mike was stopping.

"What is that?", Leonardo heard the orange-masked turtle yell faintly above the collapsing rubble.

"Just stay put, Mike! Don't you guys move!" Leonardo called in return. The blue-masked turtle became alarmed when he noticed the water level rising, but quickly realized it wasn't a torrent heading their direction. He felt a hand on his arm, and he turned to face Donatello.

"We need to go take a look at what happened, Leo. If things are clear up top, this might be the time for us to make a break for it."

Leonardo took a couple of seconds to think about it, but then he nodded. He motioned for Mike to bring his Slider closer so they could talk more easily. "Don and I are gonna take a little walk to try and figure out what just happened."

"Leo, what are you talking about?" Raphael demanded. "We need to get the shell out of here!"

"That's the point, Raph. If things look clear on the surface, we'll try to get out altogether. We won't be gone long."

"Leo, don't go! I'm serious, bro, how do we know the whole tunnel isn't about to come down on us?" Raphael practically pleaded.

"We don't," Donatello answered truthfully. "We'll be quick. Don't move unless you have to."

Leonardo climbed out of the Slider onto the paved side of the tunnel, and waited for Donatello to join him. When the purple-masked turtle began walking swiftly, it was clear he wasn't kidding about being fast. There was an eerie sense of unreality as they slipped through the shadows of the tunnels, uncertain of what could be waiting for them. For as long as Leonardo could remember, the sewer had been one of their sole sources of safety. Right now it felt more like a monster that was stalking them, lying in wait to devour them whole.

The sound of shifting rocks and debris was still ricocheting off the walls ahead of them, though it had slowed down considerably from the initial implosion that had stopped them in their tracks. With Donny's recent words lingering in his ears, Leonardo's desire to get to the surface and find their wives and friends had increased a hundred fold.

When the strains of daylight began to reach their eyes, Leonardo swallowed deeply. The hand with which Donatello was grasping a flashlight dropped down to his side as his breath caught in his chest.

"Oh shell, Leo..."

"I know it might not be pretty, but we still have to get a look."

Leonardo silently led the way through the last shadowed section, into the partial light of day on the other side. They hung back from the fringe of the rubble, and stared at the gaping portion of the street missing above the tunnel. Dozens of voices registered in Leonardo's ears, and none of them made any sense. The sheer panic on the surface bled through the crevice like a cold tidal wave overtaking him.

"This doesn't sound promising," Leonardo said softly.

Donatello's form was tense, and he didn't seem inclined to get any closer to the devastation. "This feels unstable, Leo. We can't make a break for it here. People are being drawn to this spot like a car wreck you can't look away from."

Leonardo nodded and backed away from the mound of debris. "Let's take a quick glance through the manhole we passed a couple yards back."

They backtracked into darkness, and Leonardo cautiously ascended the ladder, giving the cover a firm push. He peered out at the street level, dark eyes widening at the number of congregating people. The blue-masked turtle instantly let the cover slide back into place, and dropped onto the side of the tunnel.

"No way. We can't go up here. I think our best bet is to keep moving toward the Park, even though we're going to have to change directions."

Leonardo felt a strange heaviness weighing down his limbs as they walked back to the Sliders, and the question of whether or not he was making the right decision for everyone popped up in his mind again.

"What's the deal, guys?" Raphael's was the first voice to greet them.

"There's a cave-in up ahead. We have to take a detour," Leonardo said calmly.

"What about going up?" Rebecca asked.

"You girls would be fine, but the rest of us would be in jeopardy," Leonardo replied. "It's actually not a horrible idea if you and Jenna want to go to the surface now."

"That's not happening," Jenna snapped. "You don't really think splitting us up is the right thing, do you?"

"No. I think we should keep going, and try our hardest to get to the Park. I have to admit I'm having some second thoughts though."

"Can you have them while we're moving maybe?" Raphael shot over.

Donatello nudged Leonardo's side. "Maybe you and Mike should switch places," he suggested under his breath.

Leonardo couldn't argue with the logic. "Hold up - we're going to make a quick change, guys, then we can get moving again. C'mon over here with Don, Mikey."

"I didn't drive the Slider _that_ badly, did I?" the orange-masked turtle complained.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Mike. You're the best counter-balance for Donny." _And it sounds like I need to calm Raph down a bit, so please don't make a big deal out of this, _he added mentally.

Leonardo saw the longing look Michelangelo gave to Rebecca, but then the orange-masked turtle heaved a sigh.

"Okay, Leo, whatever you say."

Rebecca brushed his shell before Mike could switch with Leonardo. "I'm not going anywhere, Mike. I'll be right behind you."

He nodded at her, then carefully exchanged places with Leonardo so that the leader could settle in with the red-masked turtle.

Raphael gave him a dirty look. "Are you and Genius keeping secrets now? What was the deal up ahead?"

"It was exactly what it sounded like, and there were too many people around to consider going topside."

"I think you're underestimating us, Leo."

"We might have been able to manage it, Raph, but is that the kind of risk you want to take with your daughter?"

Raphael acted like he was going to say something, but then shut his mouth.

"That's what I thought," Leonardo said evenly.

"Yeah, well...we're still not in a good spot down here either. All that creaking is making me paranoid."

"I couldn't tell, Raph." Leonardo grinned suddenly.

Amber eyes narrowed slightly. "I want to know that our girls are okay."

Leonardo knew that Karina was at the forefront of Raph's thinking. His brother's nerves made perfect sense to him, but he still needed Raphael in a calm frame of mind in case they hit issues.

"Raph, I know you're worried about Karina and Olivia. There are a lot of reasons you could lose it right now, but I need you to fight the urge, okay? Yes, Donatello told me that this probably wasn't a small quake, which means there's a measure of madness on the surface. I need your help, and I need your mind to be _here_ where we are, and not imagining everything that could be going wrong up there. Focus with me, bro."

Raphael broke eye contact with him as he took a shaky breath. "Yeah, sorry," he mumbled. "I don't mean to get so impatient-"

"You just want to get out of here, which is understandable. I want out too. We're going to make it, Raph. Hang in there with me."


	12. Park

Raphael hadn't bothered to get Olivia dressed at the same time that the rest of the turtles had put on their clothes. The problem with not forcing the little one to wear anything on a regular basis was that Olivia wasn't fond of the extra burden when he or Karina tried to dress her. She'd squirmed so much when he'd first attempted it, that he decided to let it go for a while longer.

The red-masked turtle was so on edge, it felt like the smallest thing would be able to set him off. The way they were flying through the sewers on the Sliders reminded him of running haphazardly through a minefield. They'd already had to bypass another section of the tunnels due to a second cave-in. He was ready to escape the precarious confines of the tunnels.

A small portion of the tension in his muscles had relaxed as they traveled for a few more minutes of silence, without even hearing the pipes. Raphael's gaze rested on Leonardo. The blue-masked turtle had his back to him, but looked over his shoulder as Raphael's eyes lingered on him.

"You all right, Raph?" his brother asked.

He bobbed his head lightly as he brushed his hand over Olivia's shell. The little turtle was nearly asleep on his shoulder, and Raphael didn't want to disturb her.

Leonardo's glance shifted to Rebecca. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah," she answered softly.

With a flash of guilt, Raphael realized he hadn't even questioned how the young woman was holding up. He was so consumed with protecting Olivia and whether everyone else on the surface was going to be okay that he hadn't been giving his _present_ sister-in-law a thought. Rebecca was normally on the quiet side anyway, and not as quick to speak up as his own girl would be.

_Shell, she didn't even complain about being separated from Mikey, and it's probably my fault Leo made him switch places._

"Sorry I got you cut off from Mike," Raphael apologized. "I really didn't mean to. I'm annoying everyone today."

Rebecca offered him a faint smile. "You're not annoying, Raph, you're concerned. I don't blame you for that. You're doing a good job with Liv, though. She looks very secure with you."

Raphael cracked his first real smile since before the tremor had started. "Nah, she's just a tough girl, Becky. A lot like some other women I know." He winked at Rebecca and she started to chuckle, but it cut off as quickly as it began. She took such a sharp intake of air that the red-masked turtle immediately shifted closer to her. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said too quickly. "I mean, besides the obvious."

But the way her expression changed suggested_ pain_, not fear.

"I don't buy it, sis. What's really going on? Is it your hand? I know Donny never got time to get a proper look at it."

She shook her head. "No, Raph, honestly. There's nothing wrong with me except for a little sea sickness."

That got Leonardo's attention. "Sea sickness?" the blue-masked turtle repeated. "Becky, you've been on the Sliders hundreds of times. We were on the _ocean_ together, and you never suffered anything like that."

"Stress, maybe," she suggested. "Either way, it's no big deal. I just don't want to gross anyone out by throwing up."

Raphael made a scoffing sound. "That's ridiculous, Becky. Quit thinking like that."

Leonardo turned away from the control panel to dig into one of the bags. "Would some water help?"

"Please don't, Leo," she insisted. "We don't have a lot of supplies, and there's no telling what conditions we'll face on the surface."

"It won't kill us for you to have some," Leonardo said firmly.

Rebecca didn't refuse a second time, though Raphael suspected that she wanted to.

"Any idea how much further we've got to go, Fearless?" Raphael asked.

His brother went back to studying the small display on the control panel, then looked at the Slider in front of them. "We're getting there, Raph. I can't communicate these directions into an actual timeframe like Donny could. I'm sorry it's been taking so long."

Raphael snorted. "You say that like it's your fault or something, Leo."

The blue-masked turtle raised his hands helplessly. "Have you thought about getting Olivia ready to go topside?"

"Yeah," he answered with a hint of irritation. "It feels stupid to bother her when she's finally settled down. I should have forced her to get dressed before."

"Let me try, Raph," Rebecca volunteered. "I helped Karina wrangle her last time. I think I might have learned a thing or two."

Raphael's initial instinct was to assure her that he could handle it, but part of him felt like Becky needed something to do. He willingly handed Olivia over to her, and couldn't help grinning at the way the young woman cradled his little girl.

_Mike's not the only one who loves this kid_, he thought fondly, while he dug some clothes out for Olivia. When he looked back up, Olivia was stretching green fingers toward the water bottle at Becky's side, and the woman popped the sport-top open to give her a drink.

"Open up a little wider, Liv," Rebecca encouraged her.

The baby giggled as Becky fired a couple of small shots of water into her mouth. Her laughter quickly changed to protest as Rebecca pulled the soft fleece leggings over her feet.

"C'mon, silly," Becky told her. "You have to blend in like everyone else, okay? It's all right to stand out, but sometimes you have to hide too."

Raphael barely repressed a grin. He talked that way to Olivia too, taking the time to explain things although his daughter couldn't fully understand what he was saying.

"See, now you're getting a hood on just like your daddy," Rebecca tried to soothe Olivia as she kicked her legs.

Raphael noticed how the young woman was careful to avoid his daughter's long limbs as they lashed out. He knew from experience that Olivia was a lot stronger than she looked. Rebecca applied gentle pressure to the baby's plastron to keep her still long enough to get the sweatshirt over her shell.

Out of the corner of Raphael's eye, he saw a flash of green from the grating under which they'd just passed. From the way Leonardo quickly reacted with the Slider, it was apparent he'd seen it too.

"Donny!" the blue-masked turtle called. "Let's not worry about traveling too far inside the Park! We should bail while we still safely can."

"Agreed!" Donatello's voice carried back. "I'll watch for another opening!"

Raphael let out an anxious sigh. _Finally. We've gotta get our feet on solid ground so we can look for our girls._

* * *

><p>Mike was puzzled by Donatello's urgency as he started freeing their belongings. He'd been trying not to question him, but was curious about the way he was acting. He noticed that Donny's eyes kept returning to the water beneath them every so often in the middle of the other things he was doing.<p>

"What are you looking at?" Mike asked.

"The water level is rising. It might not mean anything serious, but I'm ready to get out of here," Don replied.

"Do you want me to start gathering things up, Donny?" Jenna asked.

"No, leave it for the moment. Living things first, stuff after. Once you girls are on the surface, we can worry about getting our supplies up there."

"Then is there anything else I can do to help?"

Donatello shook his head. "Just stay calm. We're almost out of here."

The relief in Donny's voice made Michelangelo intensely grateful for that fact. The orange-masked turtle spied the upcoming manhole, and pointed it out to Donatello as his brother was fiddling with one of the grappling guns.

"Good," Don said under his breath. He replaced the device on his belt and took the controls of the Slider back from Mike so that he could maneuver the vessel into the ideal position. The purple-masked turtle waved to their brothers behind them to stop, then looked at Jenna. "Do you mind going first, Jen? Just yell if it's clear."

The raven-haired woman nodded, and accepted the boost from Donatello to get to the ladder, though Mike knew she didn't really need it. Years of self-defense training had developed Jenna's upper body strength a great deal. The woman disappeared from their sight for a few seconds, before her face returned at the mouth of the manhole.

"There are people in the vicinity, but no one's really close by," she informed them. "I don't think we can ask for anything better than that."

"No, probably not," Donatello replied, and threw a glance over his shoulder. "Rebecca, can you make it to our Slider?"

Michelangelo watched the young woman closely as she climbed over, noting that she appeared to be a little off balance. "You okay, babe?"

Becky nodded. "I'm fine, Mike. Are you gonna help me out of here, or what?"

He smiled at her playful tone, and she allowed him to partially lift her over to the ladder. Raphael joined them on their Slider next, clutching Olivia protectively against his chest. The red-masked turtle looked up, as if trying to process his next move.

"Tell you what, Chucklehead," he addressed Mike. "I'll go on up first, if you'll hand Olivia up to me."

"Will do, Raphy."

Once Raphael and the baby were out of the way, Leonardo hopped over to their Slider with a bag over his shoulder and Tiger in his arms.

"Leave the luggage, Leo, and we'll take care of it when the rest of you are up," Donatello suggested.

Tiger didn't appear pleased with the way Michelangelo nearly had to throw her into Raphael's waiting hands.

"Let's get started, Mike. Do you mind taking the ladder, and I'll hand things to you? We can create a chain gang. I'll start with the things on our Slider, then grab the stuff from the other."

"Sure, Don."

Michelangelo blinked rapidly in the light of day that filtered through the manhole, and caught his breath as he made his first trip to the surface. He knew he would have received some kind of warning from the others if there was imminent danger, but he couldn't help swiftly scanning their surroundings to be sure.

"Let her be, Leo." Raphael was motioning to Tiger. "She's gotta get used to sticking close to us on her own. You're not planning on holding on to her wherever we go, right?"

Michelangelo dropped one bag on the ground and watched Leonardo stop trying to herd the cat. The blue-masked turtle noticed him, and came over swiftly to the sewer entrance.

"I'll help too, Mike, so you'll only have to go halfway. Just hand me things from the ladder."

Donatello was ready to toss some more things up, but his steam didn't last for long.

Mike looked down from the ladder after he'd been waiting for close to a minute. "Don, what's up?"

The purple-masked turtle was crouched in the Slider as if he was frozen in time. "The water pressure seems to be increasing! I'm hurrying, guys!"

Leonardo bent further over the opening. "Don, I'd really like for you to get out of there!"

"We can't afford to leave anything behind, Leo, I just need a couple of minutes," he returned.

Michelangelo watched Donny leap out of sight to the other Slider again, and he glanced up at Leonardo. "I'm gonna help him finish faster."

Without waiting for permission, the orange-masked turtle dropped off the ladder onto the vessel beneath him. "Toss me something, Don!"

The purple-masked turtle stretched to hand him the cooler. "Don't throw it, Mikey, there are too many important things in there! Will you take it to the surface? There are only a couple more pieces to go up."

"Yeah, okay," Michelangelo allowed, and turned back for the ladder. He slung the strap of the cooler over his shoulder and climbed hand over hand to meet Leonardo. "Almost done, Leo. One more trip ought to do it."

"Wait." Leonardo's hand grasped his arm firmly. "Stop. Listen."

When Leo spoke in sentences of two syllables or fewer, Michelangelo tended to pay attention. There was a rapidly building roar coming from underground that reminded him vaguely of the wind.

"Donny, get out of there, NOW!" Leonardo's tone wasn't taking "no" for an answer.

The rate at which the roar increased was astounding. In the time it took for the orange-masked turtle to blink, it sounded more like resonating thunder. In the moment it took him to cry out, the powerful water was overwhelming the Sliders.


	13. Swept Away

Donatello barely had a second to gasp before the weight of the water crashed down on top of the Slider. In that instant of panic, he was certain the vessel was going to be swamped, and fell flat on his plastron to redistribute his weight. The turtle gripped the sides of the Slider and wedged his legs under the seats as the water rushed underneath him. He jolted as the vessel crashed into something, and he heard the scraping sound of metal upon metal.

In a flash he knew the two Sliders had collided. He could only pray that the vessels would survive the encounter without _his_ flipping. Donatello didn't realize he was holding his breath until his Slider broke free from the obstacle, and splashed back down into the water. The turtle lost his grip as he momentarily went airborne, then slammed down on his chest a second time.

_Shell, I can't even see what's happening!_

Donatello raised his head a few inches off the floor, as he held onto the sides of the vessel so hard that he could_ feel _his fingers changing color. The sound of the water was overwhelming; he could hardly think straight.

_Hold on, hold on and breathe! Don't lose your head, now _think_!_

The extra weight on his belt suddenly registered in his mind, and he remembered his grappling gun.

_Okay, that might come in handy at some point. I have to get up first though._

As Donatello tried to sit up, he felt the Slider shifting sideways under the force of the water, and it lurched dangerously as it collided with the wall of the tunnel. The purple-masked turtle looked in the direction of the control panel.

_The lights on the display are still illuminated. If the water hasn't fried the circuits, I might still have a shot at using the engine. I can't waste the opportunity though; I have to wait for the right moment!_

He fought his way to his knees, and struggled to survey the tunnel speeding by him. As much as he tried to mentally will the Slider to stay on a straight course, it continued to drift to the side, and was driven against the walls a number of times.

_I don't know how much abuse this thing can take before it starts to break apart. I need a solution, NOW!_

What he _needed_ was one of the metal rung gratings - something upon which the hook of his grappling gun would be able to catch. But the light of day was nowhere to be found currently; only the heavy dark covers were flying by above him.

_Dang it, I have to do something!_

There was a tremendous shudder through the entire vessel as it struck something under the surface that Donny couldn't see. He imagined he could literally feel the Slider cracking under the pressure of the water and the lashing it was receiving.

_I have to try something before I don't get the chance._

Donatello flung his weight backwards toward the controls, and tried valiantly to get his feet underneath him. He settled for making it to one knee, and he quickly brushed the power button for the engine that was faintly lit. Nothing happened.

_No, no, no, c'mon!_

He mashed the button harder, as if it would make a difference. There was no response, and he attempted to get to his feet again. Donatello was about halfway up when he was thrown violently off balance by a surge of water, and clutched both arms around a seat to prevent himself from being cast overboard.

Donny buried his head as the flood washed over the Slider, coughing severely as some of the water made it into his lungs. He hung onto the seat for dear life as he felt the Slider spin, then tremble underneath him.

_This thing isn't going to save me_, he realized with cold clarity. _The engine has to be shot, and there's no way the Slider can handle much more of this beating. I've got to figure out some way to see where I'm going!_

Donatello felt under the seat with one hand, while he still hung on with the other.

_There was supposed to be a kit here, I know there was! I'm always prepared!_

Donatello didn't find the case he was looking for, and he ended up rolling across the Slider to get to another set of seats. He jammed his hand under another platform, but still couldn't find what he was searching for. The turtle growled in irritation as he ducked his head from another wave, and was swept over against one of the remaining secured pieces of luggage.

An iridescent patch caught his attention, and he realized he was holding onto his youngest brother's bag.

_Monster light,_ he remembered.

Donatello swiftly dug inside of the duffle bag to locate Mike's famous flashlight.

"C'mon, it has to be here!" he yelled out loud.

Donatello sifted through the bag's contents rapidly, though he resisted the urge to throw things. When he felt the familiar cold metal of his brother's favorite flashlight, he yanked it out of the bag.

"Work!" he commanded as he hit the switch.

The powerful beam cut through the darkness, and Don adjusted the light straight up at the ceiling of the tunnel.

_Only way out of here is up._

Things were moving by too quickly for him to do anything about objects directly in front of him.

_Look down the tunnel, find your target in the distance, and go for it! _The rational side of him was still alive in there somewhere.

The beam flashed down the tunnel in front of him; far enough for him to make out the way that water appeared to be cascading over an edge, dropping off to a lower portion of the sewer.

_Hm...no, thank you._

He scanned the ceiling rapidly. All he needed was one pipe large enough to handle his weight, or preferably a ladder leading to the surface. Donatello noticed a possibility that was coming up several feet away, and decided there was no time to think about it. Instead he drew the knife from his side to slice the bonds that were securing the last two pieces of luggage. Donatello stuffed his arms through a backpack, and cast the strap of Mike's duffle bag over his shoulder.

He wasn't certain he'd be able to hold onto the bags, much less climb with them, but he couldn't imagine not trying. Donatello was definitely going to have to give the flashlight up for lost, but not until the very last second. One hand now gripped his grappling gun, while the other focused the beam of Mike's light on his goal.

_Shell, I hope this works!_

* * *

><p>"<em>Move<em>!" Leonardo commanded, as though he could instill more speed into his brothers' feet by his voice alone.

There had been little time to do anything except grab a couple of supplies, and leave Olivia in Jenna and Rebecca's capable hands. The blue-masked turtle was certain that Jenna hadn't wanted to stay behind, but a look back confirmed that the young woman was following his order.

The shaky realization that they might not be able to catch up with Donatello had already occurred in the back of his mind, though he wouldn't dare say the words out loud. Leonardo was leading his brothers on a course that cut directly across a field, hoping to buy some more time to catch up with Donny.

_I sure hope Don can buy us some time too. He said the engine might hold out..._

The hope felt fleeting even as it ran through his mind. Speed was their only ally right now. They were silent, focused, and completely unconcerned about who might be watching. No one had even asked how they would find Donny. There was no question that they were simply going to try everything they could. Leonardo hardly took in the damage of the uprooted trees and downed branches from the earthquake, merely watching for obstacles in his path so that nothing would slow him down.

"Let's check here!" Leonardo broke his determined silence, jerking a hand toward the winding path.

The blue-masked turtle yanked open the first manhole cover they ran into, and he was overtaken by chills at the sight of rushing water.

"Do you think we got ahead of him?" Raphael sounded a little breathless.

"I don't know - it's hard to see anything!" Leonardo leaned as far over as he safely could, and felt both his brothers holding onto him. He was emboldened to look closer, trusting that they wouldn't allow him to fall.

The blue-masked turtle winced at the sound of metal crunching against the sidewall of the tunnel, and strained to see what looked like part of a Slider. He stretched his neck a little further to see down the sewer, and his heart nearly stopped. There was definitely a drop-off.

"I can't see much!" he called to his brothers. "I'm not sure-"

Leonardo was startled when Raphael and Michelangelo dragged him out of the manhole.

"You saw _something_!" Raphael stated accusingly.

"Part of a Slider," Leonardo admitted. "And the tunnel drops off, maybe a quarter of a mile from here!"

"Then what the_ shell _are we waiting for?" Mike demanded. "Let's go!"

Leonardo leaped to his feet with a nod, and they were sprinting again. The blue-masked turtle could feel his head starting to spin.

_If the Sliders have been beaten to pieces by the violence of the water, I don't want to imagine how badly Donny could be hurt._

He swallowed sharply as he tried to force the fear down in his chest. _Stop thinking that way_, he commanded himself fiercely.

"I need to get ready to rappel," Leonardo reminded his brothers between breaths. "This isn't going to be easy!"

"Like anybody's gonna back off?" Raphael scoffed. "I'll go down there _without_ the harness if I have to!"

"No you won't, Raph, that wouldn't help anyone," Leonardo corrected.

They were still running alongside the path, but Leonardo froze in his step when he heard the sound of a motor.

"Get back!" he ordered the others instantly.

All three turtles jumped off the path, rolling across the grass to get out of sight.

"Why are we hiding from a golf cart, Fearless?" Raphael asked fiercely.

"Those men are from the Central Park Precinct!" Leonardo returned.

"NYPD? Seriously? Do they have nothing better to do right now?" Mike asked tightly.

"They're not stopping," Leonardo said evenly. "C'mon."

They darted out from the brush somewhat more hesitantly than they'd _been_ running. Leonardo glanced up at the sky, wishing he could shake his fist at the sun.

_What I wouldn't give for the cover of a little darkness. _

Leonardo caught his breath as he spotted another entrance to the sewers a couple of yards away on the paved path. He nearly threw the manhole cover in his haste this time, and he could immediately tell it was going to be a longer drop to get down.

"Need the harness," he requested.

Michelangelo was already pawing through the bag he'd slung over his shell to find the safety equipment.

"Leo, are you sure about going alone?" Raphael asked.

"Only one of us needs to risk ourselves at a time, and I'm going to need both of you on the surface to make sure I can get back out," Leonardo answered.

His brothers helped to loop the material rapidly around to support his legs, and crossed the harness over his shell before bringing it back over his plastron. Leonardo grew impatient as they double-checked the harness.

"Guys, c'mon. We're losing time."

"We're not gonna lose _you _because we weren't careful, Leo," Raphael insisted.

The blue-masked turtle checked the remaining portion across his mid-section. "It's fine - let's do this!"

Leonardo waited long enough for Mike to strap a headlamp securely over his forehead. He saw the worried look that flashed through Raphael's eyes, but his red-masked brother didn't say anything else as he helped Michelangelo get him into position.

"Try and keep me out of the water!" Leonardo instructed them. "I'll shout if I'm too close, or in any trouble."

"We've got your back, Leo," Mike assured him.

Leonardo's pulse rate increased along with the sound of cascading water, and he reached to adjust his light to see his surroundings better. He felt overwhelmed as he began scanning the surface of the water, without detecting any unusual disturbances. He reached to tug on a supporting line.

"Let the line out more!" he called. "I need to get lower!"

When his brothers started to pull him _up_, he could only assume they'd misunderstood. "No, let it OUT! I have to get closer to search for him!"

As they gave him more freedom with the harness_, _Leonardo's light landed on a couple pieces of floating debris that made him feel sick to his stomach.

_I don't care how long this takes. I can't budge until I'm certain he isn't here._


	14. Helping

***Shout out to my friends and reviewers out there: Thanks for all the feedback. You're making this a lot of fun for me, and after all the work that goes into it...it's nice to see that people can enjoy it. Love you guys. ;)**

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><p>Jenna only had the strength to obey Leonardo for a few minutes. She had long ago stowed their belongings further back in the bushes, while Rebecca held on to a struggling Olivia. She couldn't take much more of this standing around. As Jenna grew antsier, she could feel Rebecca's gaze resting on her.<p>

"Becky, I can't do this," the raven-haired woman exclaimed. "I've got to go after them. I have to know he's okay."

Rebecca nodded willingly. "I'm with you, Jen."

"Leo told us to stay put-"

"The rules go out the window in a time like this. If you're ready to follow the guys, so am I."

"I could take Olivia for you," Jenna offered.

"I'm pretty sure my back can handle it, but I'll speak up if I need help. Let's just go!"

Jenna had mournfully watched the direction the turtles had gone minutes ago, which now seemed to be closer to an hour. She wasn't going to be able to run as fast as she could, or as fast as she _wanted_ to. Becky wouldn't normally have that hard of a time keeping up, but she _was_ handling the burden of the baby, and had been suffering some unusual pains over the last week or so.

Jenna was tempted to tell her to hand Olivia over again, but the little turtle was firmly plastered against Rebecca's chest, not bothering to squirm now that they were moving. When they saw stray people in the distance, Jenna and Rebecca gave them a wide berth, doing their best to avoid anyone getting a close look at them. More than once Rebecca shifted her body so that she would be blocking Olivia from strangers' view.

The further they traveled without picking up a sign of the turtles, the more Jenna felt like she was unraveling. She desperately wished her phone was working, so that she would have some clue of what was going on with the boys. It was a nightmare type of scenario that Jenna had dreamed of a hundred different ways over the years. Having the clan she knew and loved in great danger of discovery out in the open was bad enough, without her husband also being consumed by a flood.

As they continued traveling along the side of the road, an odd sight caught Jenna's eye, and made the young woman stop in her tracks.

"What's wrong?" Becky asked.

"The manhole cover." Jenna pointed it out to her. "It's ajar, see? The guys don't ever leave them that way. They'd never want somebody to get hurt."

The raven-haired woman bent down to try and maneuver the cover further off the opening, and she was surprised when it appeared to shift on its own. "What the..."

The manhole cover didn't make further headway, barely moving another inch.

"Becky, help me!"

The curly-haired woman put Olivia down in the grass, and she threw a glance over her shoulder at the baby as if pleading with her to stay put for a minute.

"Just help me move it, then you can grab Liv!" Jenna practically shouted, even though Rebecca was right beside her. "Now, on my count. One, two, three!"

Both girls grunted in near unison as they pulled the cover off the pavement. Jenna peered down the entrance on her hands and knees, while Rebecca hurried to catch the crawling baby. Jenna saw a long, slender shape retreat into the darkness of the sewer, and recognized the bo staff with a great shudder.

"_Donny_!"

The flood level had risen so far in the tunnel that it was almost meeting the bottom rung of the metal ladder. The water was mostly covering Donatello's shoulders, as he held onto the ladder like a lifeline.

"Jen! Get...my brothers!" He sounded incredibly winded.

"Donny, you don't have to go very far! Can't you try to make it? That water might still be rising!"

"It _is_ still rising...I'm caught! I can't climb...!"

"What is it?" Rebecca called to Jenna. "Is he okay?"

"Donny's trapped; we need the others! Becky, please! Give me the baby and keep looking for them! I can't leave him like this. Hurry!"

The curly-headed woman only took the time to set Olivia in Jenna's arms before taking off running again.

"Jen?" Donatello's voice carried from underground.

She got back down closer to the entrance so that he would be able to see her. "I'm here, Don. I sent Becky to get them!"

"I'm sorry."

"Just hang on! You're not allowed to let go - do you understand me?"

"I hear you!" he returned.

She heard him cough violently as a wave washed over him.

"It's okay, Jen!" He panted a few seconds later. "I can hold my breath if I need to. Just not forever!"

"They can't have gone that much further! They would have stopped to search for you. Are you hurt at all, Don?"

"Not seriously, I don't think! I got jostled around, and I'm really cold and tired."

"You'll be out of there soon, Donny." Jenna did her best to sound encouraging, despite her own fear.

As the young woman settled down on the ground by the entrance, Olivia squirmed in her arms like she wanted to get free.

"No, Liv, sorry," Jenna said soothingly. "Can't let you go crawling off out here, or your Dad might have a few words for me, and your Mama..." She swallowed as increased anxiety crashed over her mind.

_I hope Karina and Calley are okay. I hope _everyone_ is okay._

She glanced back down the manhole, and didn't see the purple-masked turtle. "DONNY!"

Jenna held her breath until she saw a shadowed hand breaking the surface of the water, and latching onto the ladder. She felt tears rising as he emerged back into sight.

"Don, you have to hold on!"

"I'm _trying_," he emphasized. "The cable is dragging me under, it's getting tighter! Are they coming?" He sounded more tired than before.

"Yes, Don, you know your brothers. They won't waste any time - they'll be here soon."

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><p>Leonardo wasn't happy when his brothers insisted on dragging him up to the surface, and he was even more irritated when he saw Rebecca.<p>

"What happened? You girls were supposed to stay put." He couldn't keep the slight edge out of his tone.

The blue-masked turtle was extremely worried about Donatello, and the fact that all he'd found so far were pieces of the Sliders. He'd even started taking brief dives to make sure that his brother wasn't lost under the surface.

The curly-headed woman was bent over partially at her waist, and it took her a couple of seconds to find her voice. "We found him!" Becky cried. "He's in trouble - he needs you guys right now! If you backtrack the same way, you'll run right into Jen!"

Hope leaped up in Leonardo's heart, and he forgot about being annoyed. He motioned with his head for his brothers to follow him, and no words were necessary. He didn't even bother trying to keep a pace that Rebecca could match; he knew the young woman would catch up with them. They'd barely traveled half a mile when he noticed a figure kneeling in the road. She looked enough like Jenna that he raced toward her, with Raphael and Michelangelo on his heels.

"Donny's trapped, and the water's still coming up on him, Leo! I can hardly see him!" Jenna clutched Olivia tightly as she backed away from the entrance to give the turtles room to work.

"It's going to be okay, Jen, we're already set up to do this! We'll get Donny out of there." Leonardo got down next to the manhole to see his brother barely keeping his chin above the water-line. "Donny, hold on! I'm coming!"

Leonardo hadn't bothered unhooking the harness from before, so all he needed to do was make sure that Raphael and Mike were supporting their end before he started climbing down the ladder. The flood was no longer a violent torrent, but a steadily rising tide that threatened to swallow his brother. With some difficulty he climbed over Donatello at the bottom, and dropped into the cold water beside him.

"Are you all right?" Leo asked swiftly.

"Yeah..." Donatello's fingers were clamped down tightly on the only rung of the ladder he could reach. "It's my grappling hook. I got tangled in the cable, and it's dragging me down. It feels like it's completely twisted around my shell, and I couldn't find the gun to release the cable. I can't reach..."

"Take it easy, bro, I'm _going_ to get you out of this." Leonardo reached toward him underwater, and could feel the constricting coils of the cable. He could try to cut them, but without being able to see through the murky water, he could just as easily hurt his brother badly with the keen blade. "Donny, listen to me," he said calmly. "I'm going under. I'll look for the gun or the loose end of the cable, whichever I come across first. All I need you to do is hang on to that ladder, and _don't let go_. Understand?"

The purple-masked turtle nodded. "Be careful, Leo."

"I'll be back," Leonardo replied.

Leonardo took a deep breath and drew one of his katana. As the blue-masked turtle dove under the surface, he felt the reassuring tug on the harness, reminding him that his younger brothers were doing their job. He stayed close to Donatello, running his palm over the metallic cable wrapped around him so that he could figure out where it led.

_Geesh, he's not kidding. This thing couldn't get much tighter. But there has to be an end here somewhere._

Leonardo forced himself further under, fighting the natural inclination to float. He felt the jerk of something pulling his brother, and followed the motion to locate the source dragging Donatello down. The turtle felt around in the darkness, and was rewarded when the loose cable brushed his elbow. He carefully brought the razor edge of his blade down on top of the line, sighing inwardly as he sensed the cable give under his katana.

Leonardo pushed Donatello experimentally, and was relieved when his brother was able to move more freely. Leo shot for the surface, and gasped for the breath he'd been holding. "I think we're good to go, Don. Time to get out of here. Can you climb the ladder?"

Rather than answering him, Donatello yanked himself up by the last rung, exerting much more effort than he normally would have needed. With a loud grunt he made it to the second rung.

Leonardo shook his head when he saw the backpack and duffle bag still slung over Donatello's shell, amongst the remnants of twisted cable. "I don't believe it. You still saved that stuff?"

"No point in leaving it behind." Donatello sounded ragged. "It was right there with me. It seemed stupid to throw it away."

When he faltered on the next rung, Leonardo was prepared to catch him. His brother's form felt rigid in his grasp. "It's okay. I've got you."

Donatello released a shuddering breath. "Sorry. I'm doing my best."

"Donny!" Mike's voice was directly above them. "Leo! Are you guys okay?"

"Yep. On our way up," Leonardo called.

Raphael appeared at the mouth of the manhole. "Have you got a good grip on the ladder, Leo? Are we okay to let go of the lines?"

"Yeah! Go ahead and help Donny, would you?"

The red-masked turtle reached down to grasp Donatello, at the same time as Leonardo boosted him from underneath. Leonardo didn't realize how tense _he_ felt until the relief of seeing Donny being yanked toward the surface flooded him. In the end it took a little longer to separate the younger turtle from the bags with which he was tangled because of the cable. Raphael had to cut the strap on the duffle bag to get it free, just so Donny would fit through the entrance.

Leonardo crawled up behind him, and grinned when he saw Jenna on her knees beside Donatello, holding on to him as if she'd never let go. He could read the exhaustion in Donatello's frame, but the purple-masked turtle was doing his best to hold up his trembling wife, cradling her head against his shoulder.

"It's okay. I'm all right. I'm okay," he told her quietly.

Leonardo cleared his throat apologetically. "Guys...we should get out of sight."

Michelangelo caught Donatello's arm as the turtle struggled to his feet, and Donny gave him a sheepish look.

"I lost your flashlight, Mike," he mumbled tiredly.

"My flashlight? Dude, you almost lost _yourself_! Don't ever do that again!"

"I didn't me-" Donatello cut off sharply at the way Mike grasped his shoulder.

Mike's brow furrowed instantly. "Did I hurt you?"

Leonardo came up on Donatello's other side to try and get a look for himself.

"It's fine. My shoulder got scraped up, along with everything else. Nothing to worry about. What are we going to do, Leo?"

The sudden forlorn note in Donatello's voice made Leonardo cringe.

"I'm not sure. I guess we'd better stick to the Park for now. We need to get a hold of someone."

"I have to get the phones working, and the scanner. I'm not sure what to do about the signal strength on the cells. I should be able to recalibrate them to take advantage of the satellites, but that only addresses _our_ end of things. It won't do our friends any good unless they can get a signal too."

"Don, fifteen minutes ago I was starting to think we'd lost you. No matter what needs to be accomplished, it can't be any worse than how that felt," Leonardo replied.

"I'm sorry," Donatello murmured. "I'm sorry, bro."

Leonardo laid an arm around his good shoulder. "I'm only trying to tell you how relieved I am. Let's take this one step at a time, and find someplace to hole up."


	15. Blockhouse

*** And...we're back to Mikey. Yeah, I know you were missing him. Also, just in case you were wondering, Blockhouse #1 is not fictional. It's totally a real place in Central Park, as is the setting it's described inside of. What good is the internet if we don't use it? ;)**

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><p>Michelangelo kept a steady bead on Donatello as the group continued their trek further north into the heavier wooded portion of the Park. After his shaken brother had been granted time to sufficiently catch his breath, Donny turned out to have the best suggestion for where they should head. It meant a longer and more difficult hike than Leonardo had been originally proposing, but after listening to Donatello's reasoning, Leo had to admit he didn't have a better plan.<p>

Mike was so caught up in making sure that Donatello didn't stumble on the rocky uphill terrain, that he was startled when Rebecca slipped her arm through his. He focused on her blue-green eyes, and winced that he hadn't been paying attention to her.

"Are you holding up okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm fine. Have you guys been up to the Cliff before?"

"Donny and I checked out the Blockhouse once when we were teenagers. I got a little too excited, and he swore he was never taking me back there again."

The purple-masked turtle snorted on his right. "'A little excited' is an understatement, Mike." Don shook his head as he looked at Jen and Rebecca. "He started envisioning playing all these War Games and dragging Leo and Raph up here."

"What is this place?" Jenna asked from Donatello's other side.

"It's a small fort - the oldest standing structure in Central Park. There are several advantages to using it, even though there's no roof," Donny answered.

"What advantages?" the raven-haired woman wanted to know.

"Well...its position for one. It's extremely isolated and a little hard to get to. If you don't know where you're going, it isn't easy to find. The location on the Cliff provides a great view of the surrounding land from all directions. It's also well fortified, even for it's age. It's not the kind of place where people go to hang out. The Blockhouse is pretty much abandoned, except for the occasional tour that comes through. The public isn't even supposed to go poking around the fort unless they're part of an approved group."

"So why didn't you want to take Mikey back?" Rebecca sounded amused.

"I might have come close to breaking something..." Mike confessed.

"It's a historic landmark, and he got too rambunctious for my comfort level." Donatello chuckled. "But what else could I have expected from a hyperactive teenager who got dropped inside a mini sandstone fortress? It could have been a really cool place to play, but I wasn't much fun when it came to some things."

Donatello leaned a little heavier on his bo that he'd been using for support, and rubbed a hand across his face. "Tactically speaking, it's always proper to get the high ground, right, Fearless?"

The blue-masked turtle was directly behind him, and gave Donatello a keen look. "Why didn't you ever mention this place?"

"I wanted to make sure that it remained intact." Donatello offered him a weary smile. "We really only came here that once."

"Are you going to make it?" Leo asked seriously.

"Yeah, I'm sorry for slowing us down."

Leonardo shook his head. "You_ are _the one who suggested we hike all the way to Timbuktu."

"Just call me a glutton for punishment."

"Do you need to stop? Don't be afraid to speak up, Don," Leonardo reminded him.

The purple-masked turtle shook his head stubbornly, and Michelangelo rolled his eyes.

_Typical. He'd rather keel over than imagine he's causing any more "trouble."_

Mike glanced over his shoulder again, and saw a grim-faced Raphael bringing up the rear. They'd re-purposed the harness into a sling in which the red-masked turtle could carry Olivia more easily. The baby had her head against her father's plastron, seemingly dead to the world.

_At least we know she hasn't been permanently traumatized._

The orange and white cat trailed along at Raphael's feet, content to follow the turtle like she'd done this a hundred times. Raphael hadn't said much since they'd rescued Donny, and Mike could only imagine what was running through his brother's mind.

_He's gotta be so worried about Karina._

Michelangelo was concerned too. He hated the fact that they couldn't contact anyone to find out where they were, much less _how_ they were. No one had wondered about the conditions of their friends out loud yet, but Mike _had _heard a passing comment between his two oldest brothers that led him to believe they were planning a search of their own.

_They wanna go look for their girls, and I don't blame 'em. I don't want to sit around here either._

The orange-masked turtle nearly tripped over an exposed tree root, and Rebecca latched onto his arm harder. The speed with which she reacted was impressive, even to him.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

The probing look in her eyes indicated that she was unconvinced.

_Shell, she's still worried about _me. _I guess it's too much to expect everyone to be distracted from the issues I've had._

Patches of light broke through the tree cover as they neared the top of the cliff, and Mike was grateful for the remnants of the late summer sun. The heat wasn't normally his favorite condition in which to exert himself, but it had helped Leonardo and Donatello dry off faster. Neither of his brothers had been willing to shed their soaked layers, and deep down, Mike agreed with them. They were exposed enough as it was.

"I see something, Donny." Jenna's lilting accent called Michelangelo back from contemplation.

"That's it, Jen. Blockhouse #1."

Raphael shaded his eyes as he passed into direct sunlight. "It don't look like much."

"That's a piece of history, Raph," Donatello said crossly. "And it'll provide enough shelter from prying eyes to get us by for the time being. That is, unless there are ton of other people searching for earthquake shelter in the northwest corner of Central Park."

"I'm surprised _that _thing survived," Raphael muttered.

Michelangelo eyed the small stone fort with some suspicion of his own, but the structure was obviously still standing. As they got closer, Mike spied a portion of the west wall that appeared to have collapsed.

"I guess it could have been worse," Mike announced.

Leonardo joined him in considering the damage. "Let's have a look around the perimeter."

The group didn't bother splitting up as they performed a circuit of the fort, and finally paused at the large metal gate that covered the main door.

Leonardo tapped the lock curiously. "It appears to be intact. The gate is a little rusted, but still in working order. This place is clearly maintained by someone, but it doesn't look like they're here often."

"If only there was an easier way in," Raphael said sarcastically.

Leonardo's eyes hardened. "Enough, Raph. We all know this isn't ideal, but we have to make it work. Stop complaining."

Michelangelo was prepared to hear a sharp return from Raphael, but the red-masked turtle didn't respond. They circled back around to the portion of the exterior that was partially broken down, and Leonardo led the way inside. Mike swore he could see the wheels turning in their leader's mind.

"Priorities," Leonardo said stoically. "We should probably set up a tarp, so we can get some kind of roof over our heads if we need it. Mike, what do we have available as far as rations go?"

"Not much, Leo, you said to travel light. I made sure we'd have enough to get us through a couple of days, but water will be tight. I brought the filters, so if we found another source of standing water, we could clean it up for us to use too."

Leonardo exhaled softly. "Right. We're probably going to need to look into that sooner than later." The blue-masked turtle turned his head, stopping when he spotted Donatello. "Don, are you going to get on the phones?"

"It shouldn't take me long to adjust the settings," Donny replied. "The phones are already set up to use the satellite. I need to get that done, so I can focus on other things."

"Such as?" Raphael asked.

Donatello hesitated, and glanced back at Leonardo. "Don't go far, okay, Leo? I'm going to need to have a look at you."

"Donny, you may be confusing me with yourself," Leonardo said mildly. "I'm not hurt."

"I know that, Leo, just stay close," he replied insistently.

"Don, why don't you sit down for a minute so I can actually see your arm?" Jen requested.

The purple-masked turtle plunked down next to the flagpole that was standing in the middle of the fort, and allowed the young woman to help strip off his sweatshirt. Michelangelo hovered nearby to make sure his brother wasn't hurt more severely than he'd alluded to. Mike smiled at the way that Jenna didn't even flinch in handling Don's wounded shoulder.

_These girls are pretty used to us getting hurt by now. It takes a lot more to shock them._

"You might need some stitches, Don," Jenna said uncertainly. "That's more than just a scratch."

"Probably," he acknowledged. "But there's nothing that can be done about it right now. It needs to be thoroughly cleaned, and I could use your help wrapping it."

"Actually, I think I could close it for you." Rebecca slipped past Michelangelo, and peered at Donatello's shoulder for herself. "I have some experience with stitches, though they won't be as clean as yours would be."

Donatello flashed her a grin. "Is this some other story that stems from growing up as the 'Jungle Girl'?"

Rebecca snorted. "It actually goes back to a cave full of injured Congolese miners, who had no one but Marcus and I at their disposal to help them for several hours. You could say I got some hands-on training. I'm no expert, Donny, but if I take my time, I'm sure I can get your shoulder closed up."

"I'm willing to let you handle it, Becky, but maybe I should get a look at your hand first."

"It isn't bad," she replied, but willingly removed the wrap that Jenna had helped create back in the Den. "I sliced it open on some glass. It was bleeding pretty hard, but it's slowed down. We already disinfected it and everything."

Donatello studied the top of her left hand, and lightly turned her palm to follow the wound track. "Yeah...okay," he said after a few moments. "That probably won't require stitches. Just make sure you keep a clean bandage on it. That won't be easy to do out here. If you don't mind, I'd like to get the settings switched over on my phone before you do anything with my shoulder. I just want to acquire a signal, so that I can focus on our next complication."

"Which would that be, Don?" Jenna asked wryly.

"Some preventative measures," he replied vaguely. "Would you grab me the cooler, Jen?"

Michelangelo started checking the inventory in his duffle bag, while the others were busy with their own projects. The seal had protected the interior from the water better than he could have hoped.

_Still wasn't worth Donny just about losing his life over_, he thought sharply, as he cast a pointed look at his brother. _Why does this whole day feel like some long nightmare? I swear, I should be waking up pretty soon._

The orange-masked turtle sighed as he lifted his head to stare up at the passing clouds in the perfectly blue sky above them. _Why do we hardly ever get to do things like this, except when our whole world is crashing down?_

"Leo?" Donatello's voice registered from nearby, and Mike looked over to see him rifling through the cooler. "Can you c'mere please?"

Something in Donny's tone made Mike watch closely as the blue-masked turtle trotted over to join him.

"How's the phone?" Leo asked.

"Good. It was an easy fix to achieve the signal. Can you sit down for a minute? I need to give you a shot."

"For what?"

"You and I were just exposed to an obscene amount of bacteria, Leonardo. We have to take precautionary measures, just in case."

"What are you giving me?"

"It's just tetrozine, bro. You've had the antibiotic several times."

"The one that makes us tired?" Leonardo sounded suspicious.

"Yes," Donatello said plainly. "And I have to go with a heavy dose to be on the safe side."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "Donny, I can't afford to pass out for several hours! Raph and I have to find the girls. We weren't planning on hanging around much longer."

"Leo, you can't put the antibiotic off, or it won't be able to do the job as effectively. I'm sorry. I know this is _my_ fault - but you still have to take the tetrozine."

Leonardo physically backed away from him. "I'm not doing it, Donny."

"Then I guess I have to pull rank on you," Donatello said shortly.

"You're_ what_?"

"In an emergency situation where intervention is required, medical necessity takes precedence over all other directives," Donatello quoted at him.

"I don't _care_ if I signed Doc's contract, Donny! This isn't a medical emergency."

"It could become one very quickly. It doesn't take long for an infection to spread, and what then, Leo? Do you _want_ me to be forced to use up every ounce of our reserve medication?"

Leonardo scowled at him as he lowered to the ground by the flagpole. "I _hate_ this."

"So do I," Donatello said quietly. "And as I said, I know it's my fault. I'm sorry, Leo."

The blue-masked looked defeated. "Just give me the stupid shot, and let's get this over with."


	16. Gridlock

Greg stared vacantly at the van entrance to the sewer system that most of the humans used when they made the trip underground. His heart pounded harder as the flow of water exiting from the tunnel increased in magnitude.

_The guys got out - they must have_, he tried to assure himself. _There would have been time to escape before things got really bad. I guess there's no point in sitting around outside, not when the van isn't even here._

The sandy-haired man glanced at the cell phone sitting on the seat next to him. Reception had been spotty at best, and when he'd actually achieved a signal during his drive, only the "busy" message had greeted his attempts to contact anyone. Greg picked up the phone, and glared at the one measly bar that indicated he had service available. With a sense of futility he pressed one of the speed dials, and held the phone up to his ear.

"_We're sorry. All circuits are busy now. Please hang up, and try your call again later_."

Greg swore under his breath and barely resisted the urge to hurl his phone. He dropped it onto the passenger seat instead, and threw his Jeep into reverse.

_I don't know what to do, except try to find everyone else. Doc and Kat's loft is the closest from here. If they were going to run somewhere, it seems like that would be their first stop._

He took a sharp breath as he pulled back out onto the main road. _This doesn't feel real. It seems like if I blink, things ought to turn back to normal_.

Greg mutely took in the sight of debris and shattered glass that lined the street.

_The damage could have been worse, but this still feels...disturbing._

He hit the button to try listening to the radio. The last time he'd turned it on, very little information was being relayed about the city as a whole. The radio news was full of eye-witness accounts that were walking in off the streets, and not much else. Greg got irritated as static persisted on the station he'd listened to before, and the man tried adjusting the knob to find a better signal strength.

"C'mon," he muttered. "It's the 21st century. How can the entire communications infrastructure just collapse?"

Greg could hear voices in the background of static, but couldn't decipher what they were saying. He swore as he slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration. _This is ridiculous!_

Greg drove up a deserted block, and waited at the end of the intersection for the chance to turn right onto the street he needed. His heart rate fluctuated at the sight of fires and smoke in the distance, and the utter gridlock directly in front of him. He wasn't even going to find room to squeeze onto the street he was trying to access.

With a grunt of anger he backed up several feet and made an illegal u-turn.

_I'd like to see someone pull me over._

In his rear-view mirror he suddenly noticed a yellow cab on the traffic-filled road, with a _line_ of people leading to it. Greg's brow furrowed as he tried to imagine what they could be doing.

_God knows they're not getting a ride somewhere. Why on earth are they lining up?_

Greg was intrigued enough that he had to check it out. He pulled his Jeep off into a parking lot with an unattended booth, and found that someone (or _something_) had already snapped the stop arm. The shattered remains of the gate were strewn across the pavement.

_I guess this is as good as it's going to get._

He parked his Jeep and swiftly set off on foot, heading toward the scene of the action he'd just witnessed. Greg joined the back of the line that was about eight people deep, and tapped the bearded man in front of him.

"Hey, what's the deal here?" Greg asked the stranger.

"There's a cabbie helping relay information to people, for a price," the man answered.

"What kind of information?"

"Just depends on who he can reach on his radio. The cabbies are communicating through their own network, passing on news about the different neighborhoods and road conditions of where they're located."

"Is the damage worse in other areas?"

The man stared at him incredulously. "Take a look for yourself, Buddy. Traffic hasn't budged on this street for close to two hours. Nothing's getting in or out of the Upper East Side. I hope you don't live that direction."

Greg shook his head as chills ran down his spine. "I don't, but my friends..."

The stranger grimaced. "Rumors on the street are that entire buildings collapsed."

"You seem to have heard a few things already. What are you doing in this line?"

"Looking for a way out," the man replied, and took a couple of steps to follow the woman that moved in front of him. "I want off this island, and it's probably not going to be easy."

Greg lapsed into silence. In the time they'd been talking, his fear had increased exponentially. Now, more than ever, he wished his cell-phone was working.

_I could try to head home; Brandon might be working his way that direction too. But I'm more interested in finding out how everyone else is doing than in checking to see if my roof is still standing._

It was a good hour and a half before Greg saw the front of the line, and an aging cab driver focused shrewd brown eyes on him.

"Cash?" the man asked stoically.

Greg nodded, reaching for his wallet. "What's the going rate?"

"Fifty bucks will buy you fifteen minutes of air-time. Make it a hundred, and you can have all the time you want."

Greg simply counted out the bills, and the cabbie pocketed his $100.

"No guarantees here, fella, but I'll put a feeder out on the line for any area you wanna know about. Where am I looking first?"

"Upper East Side."

The cabbie winced. "Not a good idea to head that direction. Word is it was one of the hardest areas hit."

"I'm looking for an apartment building on East 59th. The closest cross street is 3rd Avenue." Greg recited the actual address, and breathlessly waited while the driver ducked back into his vehicle.

"C'mon over here, mate, and I'll see what I can find out for you."

Greg lingered near the cracked window, while the cabbie said something over his radio and waited for a response.

"Hang on, okay?" the driver encouraged. "It could take a few minutes to reach somebody in the target area you're trying to hit, but I'll get as close to it as I can."

Greg leaned slightly against the cab while he waited, and his gaze returned to the sidewalks teeming with people. Their dazed expressions were uncomfortably familiar. He remembered watching people walk around on the streets in utter shock after 9/11, and it wasn't an experience he'd ever wanted to relive.

The driver appeared to be getting emphatic with someone over the radio, then gave Greg a lingering glance that made him extremely nervous. The cabbie opened his window further, and he shook his head at Greg. "I'm sorry, pal. The building you're asking about is down."

"Down?"

"Witnesses say it all came crashing to the ground, not ten minutes after the quake."

It felt like someone had just sucker-punched Greg in the face. "O-okay. Um..." His mind was reeling with questions of whether or not Luke and Kat had been home at the time, or if they would have had the chance to escape. Out of all their extended "family" members, they were the most likely to be at home during the day with Reina. Kat hadn't worked since getting pregnant, and Luke's limited shifts at St. Joseph's Hospital were mostly on the third watch.

_Mmm...St. Joseph's. That's a good place to go next._

"Okay." Greg steadied his voice with some difficultly. "What can you tell me about St. Joseph's Hospital? I'd like to know if it's operating normally, and if it's possible to get there."

"Alrighty, pal. Hang on." The driver turned back to his radio, and sent out a second bulletin. He received a faster response this time, and motioned Greg to come closer. "Hospital is fine, but it's overloaded. Can't get you information on a specific patient. They're not gonna release that kind of thing."

"No, I understand. Is it accessible?"

"The cops have shut down traffic to everything besides emergency vehicles in that vicinity. Closest you could probably get a car is about ten blocks out."

Greg nodded, and he decided to ask about Marc and April's apartment at the same time. "There's another building I'd like to ask about, in the same neighborhood as the hospital. The closest intersection is Ludlow and 4th."

"Just a sec." After a couple of minutes, the driver looked at him. "Witnesses are saying that the police have it cordoned off. There are reports that part of it was on fire, but the building is still standing."

Greg sighed gratefully. "What about the Civic Center?"

"That's a pretty big place. Can you narrow it down at all?"

"I'm curious about the Javits Federal building, FBI headquarters."

The cabbie gave him a wary look. "Are you in law enforcement?"

Greg withdrew his badge, and the man paled. "Hey, I'm not here to get you in trouble," he assured him. "I'm just using your services. Can you find out for me please?"

"Uh, yeah, I'll...hold on a minute."

Under different circumstances, Greg would have laughed at the extent of the man's sudden nervousness. The cabbie's voice was still a little shaky when he returned with information.

"The Civic Center experienced some structural damage and lost several windows. I'm hearing that the high rise is intact."

Greg ran down the line with the driver to ask about the Consulate where Victoria had likely been working, and followed it up with inquiries about the condo that she and Timothy shared. He was grateful for no bad news about the Consulate, but the cabbie wasn't able to find out anything about their condo building.

Greg had intentionally saved the apartment he shared with Brandon for last, and he rattled off the address evenly for the cabbie. After about ten minutes, the driver looked back at him.

"The building is in good shape; it didn't take much of a beating. There's word of fires in the area, but they've been contained to a couple of buildings, and haven't spread to the one you're asking about. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Greg started to shake his head, but then re-thought the matter. "I want to try and make it as close to St. Joseph's as I can. I'm fine to walk several blocks, but I'd rather not get caught in gridlock en route. Is there any direction I should definitely avoid?"

After a little more research, the driver returned to him. "It's gonna involve some slow-going, no matter what direction you're heading. Your best bet is to steer clear of Madison, because they had to close the bridge. That neighborhood has seen a lot of falling debris. Honestly, the sooner you ditch your car, the better off you'll be. You'll get through faster on foot. Head north to meet up with Wiltshire, and stick to the side streets as much as you can.

Be careful where you leave your car, pal. The looting has already started, and it's only going to get worse after dark."

"Okay. Thanks for all your help." As Greg walked away from the cab, the weight of his unknowing made his limbs feel heavy. The thought of Luke and Katherine's loft in shambles was bothering him the most, but fear for the turtles was plaguing him too.

_Where would they go, _he had to wonder. _They'd better be all right._

He silently jogged toward the parking lot where he'd left his car. An inner voice told him to reserve his energy for later, but he couldn't shake the desire to get to St. Joseph's.

_It wouldn't hurt to drive past Marc and April's building in the process._

As he picked up speed, he jerked his cell phone out of his pocket. _I hope they can work the kinks out of the cell phone towers soon. Then again..._He trailed off as something else occurred to him. Donatello had already enabled their cell-phones to transmit off the satellites when necessary because of their overseas exploits._I wonder if I could figure out how to switch the phone over. He probably wouldn't have made it difficult. Maybe if I play around with the settings, I could work it out a satellite connection on my own._

_Later, _he added. Greg dropped the phone back into his pocket as he hit the parking lot, and sprinted to retrieve his Jeep. The weird sense of "unreality" persisted as he put the car into gear and pulled out onto the street. He flipped the dial of the radio experimentally, and grinned when a voice came in stronger.

"..._Officials are in the process of digging out a stretch of Lincoln Tunnel that collapsed earlier this afternoon, with the hope of finding trapped motorists before it's too late. With word of the strain on local hospitals and EMS, triage stations are springing up around major intersections and further impeding roadways. Authorities have asked us to convey their desire that citizens stay where they are, and not venture out on the streets due to curiosity or fear..."_

Greg snorted. _What are they going to do, arrest us? Sorry, NYPD. There's no way I'm gonna sit at home and wait for something else to happen._


	17. Contact

Raphael smoothed his hand across Olivia's shell gently. He watched her breathe deeply inside the soft "nest" he'd built for her for sleeping. It had taken the little turtle over an hour to settle down, even though he'd made sure she was full. Feeding Olivia was usually one of his sure-fire tricks to getting her to sleep more easily, but tonight it hadn't done him much good.

_It's been a really tough day though. Kid doesn't have a clue what's going on, and she wants her Mama. So do I, _he thought ruefully, as he drew a blanket on top of her. The night wasn't a cold one, but he still felt like she needed the extra protection. Raphael cast a swift glance across from where he was sitting to see Leonardo and Donatello.

His two brothers' sleeping forms were barely illuminated by the dancing flames of a small fire. They didn't technically need the fire for heat; it was nothing more than a comforting companion that Rebecca had suggested, and it allowed them to save the power in the electric lanterns. The curly-haired woman seemed like she was fully in her element, and it was interesting to watch Mike's girl take on a stronger role.

_Becky's one of those people who's perfectly content to let someone else lead, but if somebody doesn't stand up, she can step right into those shoes__._

The red-masked turtle's gaze shifted back to his brothers, and he focused on Jenna this time. She'd been sitting cross-legged on the ground near Donny and Leo ever since the extreme dose of tetrozine had kicked in. It certainly hadn't taken them long to drop off to sleep. Raphael hated the delay, especially now that night had finally fallen.

_Shell, I just don't wanna be here. I mean, I _do_ want to be around for the others, but..._

The responsibility to keep Olivia safe rested firmly on his shoulders, but he dearly wanted to know that everyone else was all right too. Raphael had been a little occupied trying to get the baby to sleep, and now that it was quiet, he realized that he couldn't see Michelangelo.

"Hey, Becky," he said softly. "Where's that husband of yours?"

"Mike's not far away," she answered. "He's on the overlook. Mike was acting like he wanted some space."

Raphael cast a swift glance at Olivia. "Do you mind keeping an eye on her for me? I ought to try to talk to him."

Rebecca nodded. "I think that's a good idea."

The red-masked turtle stretched, got to his feet, and ambled in the direction of the broken down portion of the wall. He heard Mike's muffled coughing before he saw him, and he grimaced with concern. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the increased darkness, he spied the shadowy outline of his youngest brother sitting near the edge of the cliff. Raphael saw the city laid out in front of him as he approached, but there weren't nearly as many lights as usual. Large portions of the surrounding area were blacked out, only adding to the general heaviness of the atmosphere.

"Hey, Mikey," he said casually.

His brother nodded to acknowledge him, his uncharacteristic silence persisting.

"Whatcha doin'?" Raphael asked, for no other purpose than getting him to speak.

"Nothing," he replied dully.

Raphael looked at him closely, and noticed that Mike's arm was gripping his chest. "What's the matter, Mike?"

"It's been a long day, Raph. My chest just feels really tight."

"Are you having trouble breathing?"

"No, bro, I would have told you. You saw me today. I've been fine."

"You don't look _or_ sound normal."

"How am I supposed to act, Raph? Should I be doing cartwheels and laughing it up? We probably just lost one of the only homes we've ever had. We don't know where the others are. We don't even know how the_ city _is."

Raphael sighed inwardly. He didn't always enjoy being in the position of acting as the "encourager". In his mind talk was cheap, and actions mattered a lot more than any speech he could give Mike. But that didn't change the fact that his youngest brother was looking for support on his own terms.

"I'm not saying things aren't bad, Mikey," Raphael started slowly. "Sitting here is driving me crazy. I want to find the girls, and I want to know that everyone else is okay. But all things considered, this could have been a lot worse. We might have lost Donny, or he could have been hurt really badly." The red-masked turtle hesitated, casting a glance out at the shadowed city. "Truth is our world's always been kinda dark, Mike, even in the best of times. You don't feel like the ball of sunshine that can light it up right now, and I don't _want_ you to fake it. But we're still here, aren't we?"

Michelangelo nodded mutely.

"Be honest with me, bro," Raphael said seriously. "How are you doing?"

Mike answered him with a shrug. "It wasn't that hard to keep up today, but I'm _definitely_ feeling it now." He cleared his throat with obvious discomfort. "Becky's worried about me, and I don't want to give her anything else to stress over."

Raphael gave him a sidelong glance as he carefully considered his words. "Is _Becky_ okay? She said she was getting seasick on the Slider earlier, and nothing like that's ever happened to her before."

Michelangelo's shoulders rose again. "I don't know, Raph. Today was the first time she mentioned that she was feeling anything weird. I mean, she's been getting tired earlier, but I kind of thought she was trying to get _me _to rest more. Now I'm not sure about_ anything_." He ended on an intense note. "Donny was so nervous, I'm scared to see the city up close. I've been watching fires pop up all over the place."

Raphael had noticed the orange flames in the distance too, though he hadn't wanted to mention them. "New York is a tough city, Mike. Its people can bounce back, no matter what happens."

"I hope so," Mike murmured. The orange-masked turtle suddenly jerked in surprise, and his hand snaked toward his belt. He came up with a vibrating cell-phone, and didn't even take the time to look at the display before answering it. "Hello? Can you hear me?...No, it's Mike!"

Raphael caught him by the shoulder, and his blue eyes flicked up to him.

"It's Heff, Raph! Hang on a second, lemme talk to him!" Mike returned to the phone. "We're okay, Heff, we made it out...No, we're not all together. Karina and Calley weren't at home when the quake hit! They were supposed to be in meetings at Lincoln Center...Yeah, _they_ have the van, so we're on foot...The Park. We made ourselves at home in some little stone fort...No, I'm not joking. Do you think I'm in the mood for that?"

Michelangelo paused for a longer period of time, listening. "So Marc and April are okay? What about Bran, did you meet back up with him?" His expression remained unchanged. "Oh, no one else?" Mike sighed softly. "Aw, Heff, I'm sure you've done your best. Don't feel bad...Um...well, no...you can't talk to Donny. I mean, you could, but he's kind of out of it...No, he's not hurt. You can't talk to Leo either...I swear they're okay. We had a little problem earlier, but everything's fine...No, I don't expect that to make sense. We're in the northwest corner of Central Park. Have you ever heard of the Cliff?...Yeah, it's hard to get here. We'd appreciate the wheels, but have you had any sleep? You can't go on forever, man. Sooner or later you're gonna-"

"Mike," Raphael interrupted firmly. "Give me the phone."

His younger brother decided not to argue and simply handed the phone over.

"Greg?" Raphael held his breath while he waited to hear his voice.

"Hey, Raph." The man sounded tired. "What's going on? What's the deal with Leo and Donny?"

"Nothing, Heff. We had a close call, but everything's gonna be all right. Donny got caught up in the flood, and Leo ended up having to fish him out. They both took a big shot of the antibiotic to make sure they wouldn't get sick, and the drug makes 'em tired."

The man released a shaky breath. "I want to find you guys. I've been sitting at St. Joseph's with April for hours. I can't keep this up. I've been coming up empty trying to reach the others. I could really use Donny's scanner."

"Uh, yeah...about that..."

"Don't tell me it's busted, Raph."

"Okay, I won't tell you. Donny's Lab got totally trashed, Heff. You can fill in the blanks."

Greg grunted something indiscernible. "Well...Marc is tied up helping with patients, but his own version of the scanner should be back at the apartment. April and I tried to get in earlier, but the placed was still cordoned off by the police. I'll sneak in if I have to."

"Heff, listen. I promised Leo I wouldn't go anywhere. I gotta wait for my bro to snap out of it before I can leave, and you need to get some rest too."

"Raph, you_ don't _understand." Greg's voice broke. "I was told Doc and Kat's loft went down in the quake. It's gone. I couldn't get near it, but my source proved reliable in the other information he gave me. I can't sit here wondering if they're dead or alive."

Raphael couldn't find suitable words for a few seconds. "Get the scanner, Heff," he said flatly. "I'd feel better knowing everyone else is in one piece too."

"I'll do my best, Raph, then I'm coming to find you guys."

"Heff, we're the last ones you need to worry about. I'm serious; we've got everything we need, and we're...relatively safe."

"I'm gonna play this by ear. I'll get into Marc's building - with or without permission, and I'll see how far my Jeep can carry me. The traffic is bad, and a lot of streets are completely clogged. I'm just glad I figured out how to switch the settings on my phone to use the satellite."

"I'm glad you did too, Heff, and I'm glad you're okay. We'll keep Donny's phone on us until he wakes up. Try and get through if you find out anything else."

* * *

><p>Greg mashed the call button for the elevator, and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the car to reach him. It was making several stops before it could ascend to his floor.<p>

_I don't think I've ever seen the hospital like this. Even with the World Trade Center and the United Nations, I don't remember it being this bad._

He was almost ready to give up on the elevator altogether, but it was getting close to his level, and he'd already waited _this_ long. It didn't make sense to abandon it now. Greg backed up several feet as the car arrived, allowing room for people to get off. A handful of men and women surged off the elevator, and he spotted a familiar figure near the back of the group.

"_James_!"

Katherine looked a little startled, but she got over it in a flash. The woman shoved past a couple of people that were dawdling in front of her, and she dashed to meet him with obvious relief. Greg wasn't completely surprised to find his eyes stinging as he embraced his former partner.

"James, I thought you could be dead!" he blurted out before he could stop himself. "I heard about your building and I was so afraid..."

"I wasn't there," she replied, her answer slightly muffled by his shoulder. "I left about two hours before the quake hit. It was my long day at the gym, and Brandon was supposed to be meeting me there eventually. Then everything went crazy! He never arrived at the gym. I don't know if he got caught somewhere else en route, or if he ever left the Civic Center at all."

"What about Luke and Reina?"

Katherine gripped the ends of her burnished hair tightly, as if she was going to pull it out. "Greg, I don't know! At the time when the quake happened, she normally would have been taking her nap! Reina could have been off schedule because she's been fussy. Luke said he thought she had an ear infection. I tried to find out about them. I logged several miles on foot all over the East Side, and couldn't find out anything. I've looked and looked! I don't know if they got out, Greg!" Her voice cracked with desperation.

She was the most broken that he'd ever seen her, and it was physically painful to see. Greg settled both hands on her shoulders.

"We're gonna find them, James, and we've got the secret weapon to do it. It may mean sneaking across a police line, but there's a scanner upstairs in Marc and April's apartment. We can track Luke; we just have to go get it."

"Reina doesn't have an implant," Katherine said wistfully.

"True, but they would have been together, right? We find Luke, we find your baby."

"And the technology could help us find the others too," Kat said evenly, gathering self- control.

"Oh!" Greg almost smacked himself in the forehead for his blunder. "I just talked to Mike and Raph a few minutes ago. They're all fine and together, except that Karina and Calley weren't there when the earthquake happened. The rest of them have taken shelter inside Central Park."

Katherine breathed a little more easily. "That's a huge burden off my shoulders, but it sounds like I still need to find my sister. Are the guys actually safe?"

Greg shrugged. "As safe as they can be on the surface. Mike said they're isolated somewhere that's pretty hard to get to. I want to go after them, but Raph assured me that they weren't in danger. "

"How did you get a hold of the guys? I haven't been able to get worthwhile reception all day."

"I just played with the settings until I got the signal bouncing off the satellite."

Kat blinked at him gratefully. "I don't think I've given your expertise enough credit."

He snorted in return. "Don't call me an expert - it wasn't like that. All I did was play with it."

"Well, let's go get the scanner so you can put the same skills to _that_ technology."


	18. Downtown

The steady rhythm of a machine beeping in the background was the first thing to register in Luke's mind. It was such a familiar sound that it didn't strike him as being out of the ordinary. As long as the tones maintained a regular pace, it meant everything was stable.

_But who's hooked up to the machine, and why can't I see anything, _he wondered through a foggy daze.

As his mind rallied further, awareness finally washed over him. _It's me, I'm the one...but where..._

Luke immediately tried to move, and found it to be more difficult than he'd expected. The fingers of his right hand twitched in response to his mental command, but he felt nothing except a strange tingling on his left side.

_That can't be good. I've got to figure out what happened._

He focused all of his concentration on the effort of opening his eyes, and found himself staring up at a strange sight. Luke had expected to see the drop ceiling of a hospital, so the white draped fabric that reminded him of a tent was surprising.

_What? Where the _heck_ am I?_

As he craned his neck to look around further in the semi-darkness, pain exploded in his skull, more intense than any physical sensation he'd ever felt. Luke clenched his eyes shut as he waited for it to pass, but the pain only slightly decreased as he remained absolutely still. That was enough incentive for him not to attempt to move again.

Luke's eyes were watering as he reopened them, and he tried merely _listening _this time to learn more about his strange environment. He'd already realized he wasn't even in a standard hospital bed, which bewildered him further.

_Wow, this is weird…There has to be some reason__..._His thought process felt like it was stalling, as the tingling on the left side of his body became more pronounced. _Not good…_he thought vaguely. _But I can do this. Where was I last?_

He wracked his brain furiously, though it was last thing he wanted to do in the midst of the debilitating pain, searching for something he could remember. _The Pharmacy_, he recalled._ Reina's earache._

Luke saw the fireball in his mind's eye as clearly as if it was directly in front of him, and the smell of natural gas seemed be hanging in the air. With the memory came instant panic that flooded his mind rapidly and caused adrenaline to surge through his veins.

_Reina!_

He rolled onto his numb left side, ignoring the pain that shot through his back like electricity and made his head feel like it was going to explode. The moment he was on his side, he recognized he couldn't move any further even if his life depended on it. As if on cue, a figure crossed through the hanging fabric, and stopped in his tracks when he saw Luke.

"Dr. Barrows, no!" The young man sounded alarmed, as though he thought Luke was capable of rising.

He wasn't familiar - Luke was certain he'd never seen him before. "Help, I need..." Luke slurred, finding a strange difficulty in putting simple words together.

"You need to lie down," he said firmly. "You're in no condition to move, let alone go somewhere."

Luke was too weak to resist the stranger as pressed him back down. "Please. You do-don't…"

"I apologize, Doctor, but you've got to lie down. Everything is in upheaval, and it's been difficult to communicate with the outside. We didn't have any access to your medical history, so we couldn't use any significant medication on you. The pain is going to catch up with you pretty quickly here."

"Y…yes. But…Reina."

"Did you come in with someone else?"

"She's…" Luke took a sharp breath as he tried to gather his wits and force coherent speech. "My baby."

"If the two of you came in together, there should be a note in your temporary file of where she was taken." The young intern stared at him for a few seconds, hesitating. "Do you understand where you are?"

"No."

"This is a makeshift Triage Center, where you're only going to reside until we can find placement for you in a hospital. Do you have any allergies we need to know about? We can get you on something stronger for pain."

His pain was the _last _thing he wanted to consider. Spasms were running down his back in addition to the monstrous headache now, but concern for Reina and confusion over what had happened to them seemed far more important. "What happ…?" Luke started, unable to finish the question.

The young man quivered slightly. "There was an earthquake. You haven't had the scans you should've had by now. You're on the list to get transferred out of here, but that will probably take some more time. Do you have any drug related allergies?" he repeated.

"I…" Luke heard the words, but they didn't make any sense. It was almost like the stranger had suddenly begun speaking another language. He squinted in confusion as his vision blurred, to the point that he couldn't see anything except for the outlines of shapes and colors.

Luke heard a voice and was able to register that it was the intern speaking, but listening no longer seemed important since he couldn't understand him. He felt a slight pressure on his right arm as he shut his eyes briefly. Amidst the dizzying sensation that the room was moving underneath him, he heard a rapid alarm.

As the hand gripping his arm fell away with a jerk, Luke heard a shout that appeared to be competing with the urgent beeping in the background. He gritted his teeth as both sounds grated through his mind. Luke was strangely relieved when the intern retreated, but he was replaced by several more swimming shapes that he couldn't identify.

All the voices were gibberish; there was nothing to distinguish one person from another, until someone bent over him with a shock of dark hair. Something in the tone of voice rang familiar, and Luke zeroed in on the woman.

"Kat…" He groaned, overwhelmed by the pain and confusion of what was happening to him. He detested the hands that were bothering him; all he wanted to do was find some place quiet where he could rest.

_But Reina..._

A vision of his baby girl and his wife filled his mind. It saddened Luke, though he couldn't understand why. He wanted to retreat into the memory, to forget about all of the painful sensations assaulting him, and the garbled nonsense going on above him.

His view of the outside world was getting fainter, and the shapes more difficult to make out. Luke actually preferred it that way. The darkness was a luxury he was ready to surrender to gladly, if it meant an interruption of the agonizing headache.

The remnants of concern tugged at the back of his mind as the noise faded, reminding him of…He didn't _know_ what they were trying to telling him. The only thing Luke was absolutely certain of in that moment was that he needed to escape.

* * *

><p>Karina trembled, but it wasn't because she was cold. She was so started by Calley's hand on her arm that she almost jumped out of her skin.<p>

"Karina, I'm right here," Calley said quietly. "I know this isn't pleasant, but we need to get to the school. It's a much better alternative than staying on the streets, believe me."

Karina's eyes traveled to the busted out storefront they were presently passing, which was occupied by at least six shadowy figures ransacking the business. "This is insane."

"Don't watch them," Calley returned. "Don't look at them. Keep your head forward, and don't make eye contact with anyone."

It wasn't the first looting that the two young women had witnessed that night. They were almost becoming commonplace, except that there was _nothing_ ordinary about their current situation. Debris, small fires, and people lined every street corner down which they'd traveled in their determined quest to find shelter for the night.

Karina was more scared than she wanted to openly admit to Calley. She was well aware of her sister-in-law's penchant for being able to see through people, but if Karina didn't admit her nerves out loud, she_ felt_ like she was hiding them.

_I'm older than _she _is for heaven's sake. Why does Calley have it all together, and I'm a complete basket-case? Any of the other girls would handle this better than I have. Talk about the weakest link._

As tense as the increased crime made Karina feel, concern for the turtles and her daughter were flooding her even more strongly.

_Are they safe? Are they okay?_

Tears came up with the inner questions, and Calley's arm came around her back.

"We're going to get through this," Calley said. "The others will find us. I really feel like this is the right thing to do."

Lingering in the lower West Side had been Calley's suggestion. By the time they made it to the Battleshell through the panic surrounding Lincoln Center, they'd arrived to find that the van's rear tires were flat. It didn't matter whether the car was disabled or not, because they wouldn't have been able to get anywhere quickly on the crowded streets. Several other vehicles were damaged or broken down, cutting off the flow of traffic in both directions.

The foot traffic had thinned out slightly since night fell, but now Karina felt like the only people left on the street with them were those who were up to no good. Calley had been adamant that the guys would have an easier time getting to them if they stayed in one area, instead of wandering through gang-infested neighborhoods in an attempt to get somewhere. That was what set them on the track deeper into the West Side, searching for the rumored middle school that had opened its doors for quake victims.

Karina glanced over at Calley, noticing the way the young woman was displaying a stone-hard exterior that almost made her look angry.

"Calley, are you..." Karina trailed off as she searched for words. "You're different right now."

Calley focused on her for a moment, before turning her attention forward. "Don't let them smell your fear, Karina. Just keep moving, and don't act uncertain about anything we're doing. These thugs know who belongs here and who doesn't. The more normal you act, the better off we'll be," she said in a low voice. "They're pretty preoccupied with all the free stuff they're getting access to, and that should keep them busy for a while yet. Long enough for us to get to MS250 without an issue. That's what I'm hoping, at least."

Karina had never seen Calley inside this type of environment, and surprise was her first reaction to Calley's nerves of steel. "I'm glad you're here, _hermana_," she said quietly. "I could have lost my head hours ago. I don't know how you're doing this so calmly and rationally."

"You forget about where I came from," Calley said without looking at her. "When I moved to New York, it was to be with a Dago. I_ lived _with the gang as one of them, Karina. I know how they think. The names and colors may vary between cliques, but their motivation is the same."

Karina nodded. "It's nice to know that I'm in the presence of a professional," she replied without thinking. The Latin woman blanched at the off remark, but Calley laughed under her breath.

"Hey, I survived through the hell of all my bad decisions. I may as well get some satisfaction in using a couple of the lessons I learned along the way."

Karina shook her head at the blond woman. _I'm going to have to learn how to stop being surprised by her. She's an enigma, she really is. There's so much more going on under the surface than any of us get to see. It's funny how things work out. I think she's a better match for Leo than she realizes._


	19. Shelter

Calley's hand hovered protectively near Karina's arm as they wandered through the school gymnasium, searching for somewhere to get a little rest. She had seen enough shady characters inside the building to know that she and Karina would be sleeping in _shifts. _The gym was already full of people, some trying to sleep on worn-out cots, while others were whooping and hollering like they were taking part in a giant sleep-over. Annoyance flickered through Calley's mind several times as she and Karina slipped through rows of cots.

_Why do disasters bring out the worst in some people? They can't even show respect to the ones who've lost everything._

Looking through the crowds, it was easy to tell the difference between the true victims and the people who were only taking refuge at the school because they didn't have electricity at home.

_Sure, it's all fun and games for them_, Calley thought bitterly, and cast a glance at Karina. _I hate this. I hate that we're stuck out here, but even more, I hate that we don't know anything. She has to be worried sick about Olivia. If I knew the first place to start, I wouldn't have minded walking all night to find the guys._

Calley noticed an empty cot ahead of her, tucked out of the way in a corner. She immediately pulled Karina aside with her to investigate. The bed looked like it had been a cast-off, probably because one of the legs was on the verge of breaking.

_I might still be able to do something with it..._

Calley dropped her dance bag on the floor, and searched out the white medical tape she used when she occasionally needed to wrap her feet.

"What are you doing?" Karina appeared confused as Calley got down on her knees.

"If I reinforce the leg, this cot will probably be usable."

Karina nodded, but then shuddered slightly. "Do you think they'll keep the lights on all night?"

"I don't know, Karina."

"I'm actually not very tired," the bronze-haired woman wheedled.

"You're going to get some sleep, Karina, we _both _are. Just not at the same time. Give me couple of minutes to work on the cot, and hopefully it will hold out the night for us."

Karina nodded again, and Calley saw her steal another wide glance at the gymnasium. "I'm with you. I don't want either of us being asleep at the same time."

Calley focused on her task with precise intensity, and tested some weight on the end of the cot before motioning to Karina. "Go ahead and lie down. I'll take the first watch."

"Why should you?"

Calley smiled. "I'm the reason we're stuck in this place, aren't I?"

"You say _stuck_ like it's a bad thing. If I was out here alone, I'd probably still be wandering the streets like a complete idiot."

"You're not an idiot, Kari." Calley reverted to Raphael's often-used nickname for the woman. "Why are you so quick to condemn yourself?"

Karina snorted. "That's a loaded question, Calley. I'm not sure we have long enough for me to answer it."

Her response _sounded_ light, but Calley sensed that she really didn't want to discuss it any further. She watched while Karina slipped out of her long-sleeved shirt into the tank top she was wearing underneath. She rolled her shirt up on the cot, and laid her head against it like a small pillow. As Calley settled down on the floor, Karina cast a lingering glance in her direction.

"Do you...do you really think that they're okay, Calley?"

The young woman leaned forward to make sure that Karina could see her eyes. "The guys are alive, Karina, and I'm sure Olivia is too. I would know if they weren't. I'm certain I'd feel it."

Karina's muscles relaxed almost imperceptibly, and Calley sighed to herself.

_My intuition hasn't let me down before, God, please don't let it start now._

"Are you tired, Calley? I don't mind staying up."

Calley forced a smile. "I'm fine. Go ahead and get some sleep. We're going to need the energy for tomorrow."

Karina sat up on her elbows. "Are you wanting to try and move on?"

"I don't know. I think we're going to have to decide that based on the conditions we're facing. I heard someone saying that the shelter is supposed to receive supplies sometime tonight. If they don't, we'll have to search out food and water on our own."

"I don't want to just sit around waiting for something to happen."

Calley shook her head. "The cell-phone towers can't stay down forever. I'm sure the officials are working like crazy to get the signal and the phone lines restored. Let's try and stay positive, okay?"

"Okay." Karina released a deep breath. "Don't let me sleep more than four hours, all right?"

"Yep. I'll keep an eye on things."

As Karina dropped off to sleep, Calley backed closer to the wall. On an impulse she reached into her bag again, and came out with a jacket. She stuffed the material behind her neck, and rested her head against the wall. Calley fingered the phone in her pocket, even though she knew it wouldn't do her any good right now.

She'd done her best to maintain a good outlook, and had started putting on an even stronger front once they were forced to deal with a seedier neighborhood. Calley didn't want Karina to know how much the atmosphere really bothered her.

_I know what these idiots are capable of, and that's under normal circumstances. Add in the madness of the earthquake on top of it, and it's like throwing gasoline on flames._

Calley was grateful that they were a little bit separated from the rest of the noise in the gym, but knew that it could also lead to being singled out. Still, Karina's deep breathing comforted her.

_I'm glad she can rest. We could have a long way to go on foot tomorrow. It's so hard to know what the right thing to do is._

The longer she stayed in the relaxed position, the more tired she felt.

_Nope, can't let go yet_, she chided herself. _Rule number one on the streets - keep one eye open at all times, especially if you're not in your own territory. _She couldn't help wondering where everyone else was sleeping tonight. _They're safe. The guys are smart; they'd know where to go. _We're_ the ones who got caught unaware in some godforsaken hood. It's only for one night, though. We'll be okay._

* * *

><p>Katherine looked at Greg expectantly as the man hopped behind the wheel of his Jeep. She was irritated at how long it had taken to find a gap through which they could get into cordoned off building, but at least the task was finished.<p>

"Boy, you can take the woman out of the action, but you can't take the action out of the woman," he teased.

Kat waved the comment off. "Did you expect it to be impossible, Heffernan? It's an apartment building, not Fort Knox."

"You still made it look awful easy."

"I've stayed active with a thriving baby, and you've sat behind a desk. What do you expect, Partner?" she asked impishly.

"I've done more than sit behind a desk, James," he protested. "A _lot _more actually."

"Then it shouldn't have taken us over an hour to get _in_." She flashed him a familiar-feeling smirk, before the severity of the situation set back in. "Can you try the scanner out please?"

"Let me get a little more light in here, and I'll fire it up."

The innocuous-looking machine of Donatello's design was capable of doing more things than Katherine understood. She knew that its primary focus was on medical functions, but it also contained a special brand of tracking technology that was centered around the implanted beacons that everyone used. Greg had some experience tracking with the scanner, but he was the first to admit that the medical jargon it could communicate was over his head.

Katherine watched silently as he scanned through screens on the device, her nerves feeling on edge while she waited for him to locate everyone. A couple of minutes had passed when Greg exhaled softly.

"I've got Luke. I'm picking up his signal several blocks from where the building went down. At least you know he probably wasn't in there at the time of the quake. I wish I could get some sign of Reina for you."

"We should have gotten her an implant already," Kat muttered. "I just never thought we could need it this soon."

Greg offered the scanner to her. "The program we need is already open. Do you want to get a fix on the other signals while I drive? All you have to do is click on the corresponding beacon for each person you're looking for."

Katherine took the machine with a swallow. "Where are we going first, Greg?"

"I'd say that finding your husband and baby girl is at the top of the list...then we'll decide where we go from there."

The woman stared down at the scanner for a few seconds, contemplating. "This device can't tell us how all of them are physically, can it?"

Greg shook his head regretfully. "Donny has designed two different types of chips. Most of us have the simple version, which is nothing more than a normal beacon to transmit our coordinates. The other chip is quite a bit more complicated, because of all the medical data it's designed to record. As of right now only the turtles and the girls have the complex version, as well as Marcus. He got his upgraded because of that field trip to the Congo."

Katherine listened to his explanation patiently while she stared at the numbers on the screen that he'd so easily interpreted. "When did you get so smart, Greg?"

"I've _always _been this smart; you just don't like to admit it out loud."

"There's a darn good reason for that, Heffernan." Katherine almost smiled again in spite of herself.

Melding back into partnership with the sandy-haired man felt incredibly natural, almost as if she'd never been gone. As the sobering reality of the lives at stake washed over her again, however, it felt like anything but business as usual.

_It's not the same_, she reminded herself. _I've changed. My family's changed._

She cast another glance at the scanner, but a second thought distracted her. "How are you on gas?"

"I'm all right, for now. I filled up my tank this morning. That's one impulse I'm glad I followed through on."

It was nearly three in the morning by the time they got close to the intersection from which Luke's signal was transmitting. They were within five blocks of their goal, and it was definitely going to be easier going on foot. She'd noticed that Greg's eyes were heavy as they got out of the car, but the man didn't appear to be interested in slowing down.

As they started toward the intersection, Katherine felt energized, renewed by the hope of finding Luke and Reina soon. Greg kept pace with her for the most part, but nearly walked into her back when she stopped suddenly, at the sight of the white tents stretched across the road like a miniature village.

"Oh, wow." Greg panted behind her.

"It's probably some kind of Triage," Kat said tightly. "There's a chance that he's working here, rather than being treated. But I don't know how long he could keep that up, without knowing what's going on with everyone else."

"C'mon, Partner," Greg encouraged her. "It's not much further. All those questions will be answered."

The man appeared to have a sudden surge in energy too, and he kept pace with her much more easily as she picked up speed. On the edge of the tents Katherine hesitated for a few seconds, not certain of the best direction in which to go.

"Excuse me-" Katherine stretched a hand to reach the first "official" looking person that she saw. "I'm looking for a couple of people, and I think they're here. Can you tell me what the procedure is? Where should we start searching for them?"

The older man showed them through the closest tent and walked them to a table that was surrounded by crates.

"This is pretty rudimentary, but this is where people are being checked in. If you're looking for information, this is where you should start," the stranger told them.

"Thanks," Kat said quickly, and the syllable hardly left her tongue before she darted toward the table. "Excuse me," she called to a dark-haired woman bearing a hand-written name tag identifying her as Benita. "Can you help me? I'm trying to find my husband and my little girl. He's a doctor; he could be helping with the effort."

"What's his name?"

"Luke Barrows."

The woman began scanning through two different clipboards on the table-top, and shook her head a few seconds later. "If he's working, he didn't sign in."

"Would you check your patient registry then?" Katherine's voice felt tighter.

Benita sighed. "It can hardly pass for that, but we _have_ had ID on most of the patients that came in today. Let me search for his name, and see what the file comes up with."

The woman reached for a crate this time, and began flipping through folders for what felt like an eternity to Katherine. Benita abandoned it after a little while, and cast a hesitant look at another crate under the table. She reached for that one more slowly, her very manner making Kat nervous, though she didn't know why.

Benita pulled the crate on top of the table and began sifting through folders once more. Katherine didn't miss the way she flinched almost immediately.

"Lucas Caleb Barrows?" Benita asked.

"Yes, that's him."

The woman looked down at the folder in her hands, and she crossed around the front of the table. "Mrs. Barrows, would you like to sit down with me?"

"No, I would _like_ to find my husband and my baby," Kat said doggedly.

"C'mon, James," Greg urged her. "Let's just do what she wants."

Katherine allowed him to pull her in the direction of a couple of chairs, but then refused to sit. "Tell me what's going on!" she demanded. "I want to see my husband!"

"Mrs. Barrows, I'm so sorry. Your husband was involved in an explosion before he arrived here. The log indicates that he passed away earlier this evening, from complications due to his injuries."


	20. Lost

Greg was too stunned to speak, but he also couldn't take his eyes off Katherine as the woman fell apart. He automatically supported her around the back as she shook, and he tried to direct her into a chair. Katherine's legs were as stiff as stone, and Greg had great difficulty in maneuvering her.

"Kat..." he whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Without warning her legs gave out and she shuddered with a tremendous sob. Greg struggled to keep her upright, but then settled for dropping to his knees alongside her on the pavement. His head spun as the woman cried into his shoulder, and the numb exterior he'd erected so quickly came crumbling back down.

A sob originated from deep in his chest, and shook him to the very core of his being. It suddenly felt as if the entire world had been thrown off its axis, and it would never be right again. Greg was aware of Katherine; he knew that she was still clinging to his shoulder, but the rest of their surroundings faded into white noise until she spoke.

"Where?" Her question was so strangled that Greg hardly heard it. Katherine raised her head resolutely and turned to face Benita behind them. "Where is he? I need to see him with my own eyes. I have to. I need my baby too."

"Mrs. Barrows, he was released to be taken to one of the Coroners with a couple of others. The transport team was already in the area."

"Which Coroner? Who took him?" Katherine's tone grew in intensity.

"I'll find out all that information for you, Mrs. Barrows," Benita replied evenly. "Let's focus on your little girl for a minute here, okay? Can I get her name and age?"

"Her name is Reina, and she's almost sixteen months old. She has blond hair and blue eyes, just like her father." Katherine's control dissolved again.

Greg felt like he couldn't breathe. The ache in his chest was spreading - it seemed to be attempting to consume his entire body. He took a determined breath, and forced his way back to his feet. His hand shook slightly as he withdrew his wallet, and searched for a photograph. Luke and Katherine had taken Reina in for portraits right before her first birthday.

"I don't know if this helps," he said quietly, "but this is Reina. Can you please find her, or at least tell us where to look?"

"I'll get on it right now," Benita assured both of them. "I won't quit until I have answers for you, okay?"

The woman sped back to her table, but Greg understood what she'd inferred without saying the words out loud.

_What are the chances that Reina could survive something that ended up killed Luke? He would have had her with him._

What had been one of the most tiring days he'd ever experienced had just turned into one of the _worst _days of his life. He glanced down at Katherine to see the woman curled up on the floor with her knees against her chest. It produced a flashback in his mind from years ago, when Luke had been kidnapped by a group with Mafia connections. She'd been broken then too, but this...

_How can it be real? After everything we've been through, after everything this family has survived, how does it end like this? How are we going to tell everyone _else_? Luke's been there for the guys through so many things, this is going to absolutely crush them. I wish he was here now, and I could take his place. God, how could you let this happen to Kat? Why did it have to be _him_?_

Greg thrust his fist into the pavement to vent some of the frustration and helplessness clouding his mind. The pain hardly made a dent in the emotional storm, but when he looked down he realized that his hand was trembling.

Katherine was staring at him too. "Did you break something?"

"No. C'mon, James, you have to get up. That woman is going to look for Reina, and we...we'll sort things out."

Looking at Kat right now, she reminded him very much of the young woman with whom he'd been partnered when they first started at the FBI. Greg would never have called Katherine a cold person, but there had been an element of her personality that was detached, cut off from the outside world. She had a type of mental strength that was desperately needed by a woman in the field, but the hardness had penetrated her entire existence. Everyone was kept at arms' length. Greg had always considered her to be a good woman and an amazing partner, but her shield had even put _him_ off sometimes.

_Luke changed that about her...and meeting the guys probably had something to do with it too, though I didn't know it at the time._

Greg had witnessed Katherine display kindness and compassion to someone before that point, but he'd never seen true warmth in her golden brown eyes until the doctor came along.

He blinked suddenly, and realized he'd been staring. "C'mon, James," he repeated, and partially dragged her upright.

Katherine stood to her feet, and let him guide her into a plastic chair. They sat in overwhelmed silence for several minutes, waiting.

Greg swore inwardly. _How can it take this long? C'mon guys, either Reina's alive or she's dead. Don't drag this out on Kat._

He cast another glance at Katherine, and the woman appeared to be so weighed down it looked like she could fall out of her chair. At that moment he also heard a pair of footsteps, and he looked up to see Benita returning. Greg immediately sat up straighter, and tapped Katherine's knee to get her attention too.

"Mrs. Barrows, I'm sorry for the delay," Benita apologized. "There was a file started on your little girl. Her injuries were minimal, but we're still searching for her."

"What do you mean you're _searching_ for her?" Kat was on the verge of exploding. "You just said she was here! Where's my baby?"

"Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but we have five people combing different areas of Triage to find her. She started out in the Pediatric section, but she isn't there now."

"You people_ lost _my little girl?"

"Things are unorganized-"

"That earthquake is going to have_ nothing _on my fury if you don't produce my baby!" Katherine interrupted dangerously.

* * *

><p>"Donny."<p>

Someone was patting his face repetitively, like they weren't going to quit until he gave them some response. The purple-masked turtle stirred on the uncomfortable ground, and he opened his eyes to see his red-masked brother, illuminated by the rays of the rising sun.

"Good. You're awake." Raphael sounded satisfied.

"And you're learning a little more gentleness. Nice to see, Raph."

His older brother gave him a hand up to a sitting position, but Donatello regretted it as pain pounded through his temples. He ducked his head and took a calming breath, as if he could mentally convince the throbbing to cease.

"You all right, Genius?"

"I will be," Donatello answered. "The side effects from tetrozine are stronger through a direct injection than when we use the IV line. They shouldn't last for more than a few hours."

"Just a few? That's good to know."

"Is Leo awake yet?"

"Yeah, Mikey was working on him. He has the gift of annoyance. You want some water, bro?"

Donatello stared at the proffered bottle. His throat felt like sandpaper, but he didn't want to waste very many of their precious resources. He took it from Raphael and allowed himself a small sip.

"You can go crazy if you want," Raphael told him. "There's another source of standing water close by - Becky found it this morning."

Donatello took a bigger gulp from the plastic bottle, and decided to hold onto it. "Can you give me another hand up, Raph?"

"What are you wanting to do, Don?"

"I want to see the others, and I need to get to work on my scanner, whether I have a headache or not."

"Oh, yeah...I have good news for you about that," Raphael mentioned. "Greg got a hold of us last night, 'cause he figured out how to make the phone work. He found April and Marc at St. Joseph's. Their apartment was blocked off by the cops because of some damage, but after Kat showed up at the hospital, she and Greg went in to get Marc's scanner. We haven't heard from them since they found the machine, but Greg said the busy signals make it hard to get through even with using the satellite."

Raphael helped steady him for the short jaunt toward one of the two low-burning fires.

"I figured if anyone could figure out how to switch the settings, it would be Heff," Donatello said.

"He's got a little computer geek in there, doesn't he, Donny?" Raphael laughed; a sound that seemed much freer than any he'd made the day before.

"You sound relaxed," Donny commented guardedly.

Raphael shrugged. "I'm trying to_ take _some of the advice that's been handed down over the years. I was probably up until about 4am, before I figured that worrying wasn't gonna make anyone else okay."

"So you've had what, three hours of sleep?"

"I've lived off less," Raphael replied, unconcerned, and handed Donny's phone over.

The purple-masked turtle glanced down at the display, and jolted when he saw the bars that indicated a regular signal. "They've restored the towers!" Donatello was surprised, but relieved too. "I'm sure the circuits must still be overloaded-"

"Yep," Jenna spoke up from where she was leaning against the sandstone wall. "A whole lot of busy signals and that stupid error message. I hope I'm not wearing the battery out, Donny, but I have to try to reach someone, don't I?"

Donatello shook his head with a smile. "You're not going to kill the battery, Jen. We're under open sunlight, so the solar power is going to kick in."

"You really _are _a genius." Raphael grinned.

Donny shrugged off the compliment as he spied a still groggy Leonardo also balanced against the wall of the fort. The flash of concern that rolled over his senses made Donatello forget that he was off balance himself. His red-masked brother caught him under the arms as he nearly fell.

"Easy, Don. Leo's not going anywhere."

Donatello looked at him sheepishly, and he moved more carefully toward his oldest brother, sliding into medical mode as naturally as breathing. "Leo, are you okay? Do you know where you are?"

Leonardo's dark eyes were glassy, but flickered to life as they met Donatello's. "Yeah," he said shortly.

"Are you experiencing any unusual pain? I know you're dealing with side effects from the tetrozine, but I'm talking about things you've never felt before."

Leonardo shook his head, wincing as he did. "Nope. I just feel like I OD'ed on that stupid drug of yours'."

"Hey. That_ stupid _drug has saved our shells a couple of times."

"How come you were walking around? I still feel like the ground is spinning. Is that an aftershock?"

"No, Leo, it's just you. I have a higher tolerance to tetrozine than you, which translates into a reduction of severity in the side effects."

"Is that because you've been your own guinea pig?" Leo asked accusingly.

"It could have something to do with it."

"Mike said he was going to..." Leonardo trailed off, as if he'd lost his train of thought. "Where'd he go?"

Raphael stifled a chuckle. "He's making the tea, Fearless. Gonna help you feel like yourself again."

"Shouldn't waste the water," Leo mumbled.

"Becky found more," Raphael assured him.

Donatello looked around the perimeter of the fort, until he noticed Michelangelo tending the kettle over the other fire. Rebecca was beside him with Olivia, taking her time feeding the baby from a bottle. As Donny started to turn back to Leonardo, Jenna caught his eye first. The woman put the phone away for a moment as she stepped over to him.

"G'morning, Donny. Are you doing okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Are you getting frustrated?"

"Kind of, but I didn't expect it to be easy. There's not much else I can do except try and hope that-"

Donatello's phone buzzed to cut her off, and startled both of them. Donny hit the button to answer it without a second of hesitation. "Hello?"

"Donny, is that you?" Greg's voice greeted him.

"_Yes_, Heff! I'm so glad you got through!"

"I don't have a lot of time. My signal is still kinda shaky-"

"You know if you keep using the satellite, that won't be a problem."

"Donny, _listen_ to me, okay? I'm with Kat, and we're trying to track down Reina. All the evidence is pointing to someone snatching her right out of the Triage unit where we found Luke."

Donatello's heart skipped a beat. "Somebody _took_ her? You can't be serious!"

"I am. We know who was seen with her last, but I need your help. I have a student ID I have to research, and I'm having trouble establishing an internet connection with my laptop. I have to access the FBI database so I can do a background check on this woman who might have taken her. I've been trying to use your signal booster, but it isn't working. Can you trouble-shoot with me?"

Donatello spent a couple of minutes walking him through the process of bringing the booster back online, and he heard a triumphant sound on Greg's end.

"Great, I'm in, Donny. Thank you. We know where everyone is, even though we haven't been able to connect with them yet. Calley and Karina are still on the Lower West Side; it looks like they were staying at MS250. We're going to head that direction, but we have to find Reina first."

"Yes, Heff, find her!" Donny said urgently. "What about Luke though? You said he was in Triage?"

"Donny, I have to go! Stay where you guys are, and we'll make it out to you as soon as we can." Greg's voice shook with his reply.

"Greg-"

The click on the line was so sudden that it stunned Donatello. Jenna was quick to pick up on his confusion.

"What is it, Donny?"

The purple-masked turtle gripped the phone for a couple more seconds, as if he couldn't let go. "Something's wrong," he said softly. "There was something in his voice...It wasn't right. He cut me off when I asked about Doc."

Leonardo cleared his throat. "Let's not jump to conclusions, okay?"

"That's not the worst part," Donatello said anxiously. "Reina's missing. They think someone took her."

A familiar fire immediately burned in the blue-masked turtle's eyes. "We_ have _to get out of this Park."

"Leo, you're not ready to go anywhere," Jenna pointed out.

"That's not going to hold me down all day," Leonardo said fiercely.


	21. Heroes

Katherine breathed in and out deeply several times, while she waited for Greg to sift through the criminal database. She was infuriated beyond measure that someone could steal a child, _her_ child, at a time like this. She was frustrated that the Triage Center had accepted the suspect in question's help with patients, procuring nothing but a copy of her Student ID in return. There was no address or license number, nothing to connect Kat and Greg back to the young woman who'd last been seen with Reina. All they had to go on was her name and likeness, and Katherine had to pray that it would be enough.

Kat had cringed at the way in which Greg had hung up on Donatello, but she agreed that telling anyone that Luke was dead over the phone was too cold. A part of Katherine felt guilty for leaving her younger sister and Calley at MS250 as well.

_It's not a good neighborhood, and I'm sure they're worried about the guys and Olivia. But at the same time, they're smart girls, and they're nowhere near as helpless as Reina. The more time that passes, the less chance I have of finding my baby!_

Katherine choked back the sob that threatened at the back of her throat. She had cried until it didn't feel like she possessed another drop of water in her body, but this wasn't the time for grieving.

_I have to be strong. I have to get Reina back. She's my little girl, the only part of Luke that I have left..._

"She has priors!" Greg practically shouted. "Where's that paper, James?"

Katherine shoved the folded up copy into his hand, and Greg smoothed out the grainy image of an identification card.

"It's awful close, James. Look for yourself."

Katherine peered at the laptop screen for several seconds, then back at the photocopy. The likeness on the screen was a disheveled mugshot; a far cry from the poised, put-together student in the picture on the ID card. Yet something about the eyes made Kat feel certainty in her gut - a bitter coldness that seemed strange in the otherwise relaxed face of the student.

"It's her, Greg. What was she convicted of?"

"A number of counts of misdemeanor stalking involving women with children, and it looks like her pattern was escalating. She's also got a couple of temporary restraining orders against her record, _and_ she's on probation."

"This is the type of person they'll let walk in off the street to help injured children?"

"In all fairness, James, they didn't know about her record. They just needed all the hands they could get."

"And they took whatever trash showed up at their doorstep." Katherine fumed. "Tell me you have her address."

"I do, and it's not far from here. I say we pay her a visit."

"Absolutely." Katherine yanked her seatbelt across her chest so hard that Greg gave her a wary look.

"James. You're not armed, are you?"

Kat gave him an annoyed look. "I stopped carrying my service weapon when I stopped carrying a badge. I don't _need_ a gun to beat someone down, Greg. That's why God gave me hands."

"James, you have to promise me that you won't lose it. If this chick doesn't have Reina-"

"Then I won't lay a hand on her. If she does, you might need a spatula to pry me off."

Greg gazed at her sharply, then shook his head. "Well, there's nothing for it. We can't wait for the police to get involved first. My badge should be sufficient to get us inside."

Katherine leaned back against her seat as Greg drove down the block, and he had to take a detour to get around a broken-down bus. In less than ten minutes the sandy-haired man pulled over in front of a house, and squinted to see the address numbers.

"Yep, that's it. I have the badge, James, so let _me_ do the talking. This woman doesn't own the property; she's just renting part of it."

"You get us in the door, Heffernan, but if I catch wind of my daughter, you know I'm going to speak up."

Emotions rolled around dangerously in Katherine's mind as she and Greg walked up to the front door. The man gave her another meaningful look, and Kat scowled.

"I'm not going to lose it prematurely, Greg. Now go work some magic!"

He reached for his badge, and knocked firmly on the door. A few moments passed before the entrance opened a couple of inches, with an attached chain keeping the door mostly closed.

"What do you want?" a middle-aged woman asked suspiciously.

"FBI, Ma'am. May we enter the premises?" Greg said smoothly.

The woman tried to get a good look at Greg's ID without opening the door any further.

"We're actually here to talk to Alicia Lang. She's one of your tenets, isn't she?" Greg asked.

The woman's eyes flicked nervously between Greg and Katherine. "You're FBI? What do you want with her?"

"We have some questions," Greg answered. "She's considered a person of interest in a crime that was committed last night - a kidnapping. She isn't under arrest; I just need to talk to her."

The door was thrust open with a _bang_.

"I woke up when she came flying in around 2am, and I heard a kid crying. Baby's been screaming for about an hour at a time! I think it must have worn itself out finally."

"Does Alicia _have_ a child?" Greg asked quickly before Kat could move.

The woman shook her head. "No, sir. I've already been up to her room to talk to her twice about the noise, and she said that it's temporary. A friend needed her to take the baby, because she didn't have a place to stay."

Greg gave the land-lady a calm but steady gaze. "Ma'am, I need to talk to Alicia. Will you let us into the residence please?"

The graying woman stepped tiredly aside, waving a hand for them to enter. "She lives on the third floor. Follow me, and I'll take you upstairs."

Greg shot Katherine a look over his shoulder as they ascended the stairs. "Keep it together, James," he said under his breath.

Katherine gave him an evil look. "Keep_ going_, Heffernan."

* * *

><p>Karina had waited for morning to come like a starving man hoped for food. She'd been relieved to discover that her phone had some signal strength, but so far, it hadn't done her any good. She'd tried to place so many calls that the busy signal reverberated in her ears, whether she was listening to the phone or not. As her hand gripping the device drooped, Calley gave her a comforting glance.<p>

"This is temporary, Karina. We're going to get out of here, and everything's going to be okay. We've been in worse situations, right?" Calley suggested impishly.

Karina snorted. "I couldn't tell you, Calley. I've blocked out that entire kidnapping episode with the Akiudo from my memory."

Karina took a moment to glance around the gymnasium. The population had thinned out somewhat, and she was tempted to try and get into the bathroom. The dirty conditions didn't make for a pleasant experience, but she still had a desire to wash up.

"Do you want to try the bathroom again?" she asked Calley.

Calley nodded. "It's probably a good time now that things have settled down."

The two girls trod silently down the hallway connected to the gym, bypassing the first two sets of bathrooms they came across. The sanitation conditions inside were so bad that neither of them were willing to step foot back inside them. Instead they kept going toward a flight of stairs, and ascended to the next floor.

The second level felt hollow and empty, as if there was no one around for miles. The two women made a beeline for the first bathroom they saw. Karina breezed through the door without giving it a second thought. She'd hardly taken two steps inside when Calley snagged her by the arm, and physically pulled her backwards.

"Call-"

The blond woman yanked her more insistently, as an African-American young man jolted out of the bathroom stall. A scream erupted from behind him, and Karina watched in astonishment as he stomped a foot down on a girl's throat who was trapped underneath him. A smirk appeared on the boy's face as he looked back at Karina and Calley.

"What do we have here? Boys! We don't have to take turns after all!"

Karina was already backing toward the door with Calley when it was flung open, and three men crowded into the bathroom behind them. Karina recognized that the colors they were wearing probably meant that they were in a gang. As chills ran down her spine, Calley's fingers tightened on her arm.

She looked at Calley, and saw that the woman's brown eyes had gone as cold as ice. Karina gaped as Calley laughed scornfully.

"You boys don't wanna go there." Calley's tone was razor sharp. "You're in completely over your heads."

"Are we s'posed to be afraid of _you_?" One of the newcomers laughed.

"I might surprise you, but I was referring to my clique. You lay one hand on us, and you're gonna start a fight that's a lot bigger than you are." Calley didn't miss a beat.

"Your clique," another scoffed. "What gang do you belong to?"

With a rapid motion Calley flipped the light jacket she was wearing. She casually displayed a tattoo that was normally concealed on the small of her back, of two serpents devouring each other.

"I run with the Dagos, and they _don't_ like people touching their women," Calley replied sharply. "Entire wars have been started because some stupid punk couldn't keep his hands to himself."

The original attacker stared back at her, appearing impassive. "And what about your pretty baggage here?" He pointed at Karina.

"She's new, about to be initiated today. But she's already spoken for, and you can't have her."

"I can have anything I want," he said dangerously, maintaining a steely glare at Calley.

The blond woman didn't flinch. "_No_, you can't."

The young man growled softly, as if trying to assert his dominance over her. His forehead furrowed as the smaller woman refused to back down.

"Why don't you mind your own business and get lost?" he finally said.

Calley shook her head. "Afraid not. Why should you get to have any fun if I can't?"

Karina gave her a double-take, and noticed the young man was staring at her with wide eyes too.

"If you're looking for some satisfaction-" he started.

"Not _your _variety," she sneered. "That girl would be perfect for our ritual, and she's coming with us."

The man laughed. "Do you really think you could take her from us? I'd like to see you try."

He took a threatening step toward her, and a soft click signaled a switchblade opening. Calley remained emotionless and unmoved.

"You wanna try me out, baby?" he said in a low voice.

In a flash that startled Karina, Calley snagged the boy's wrist that was lazily extending the knife, and she took the blade from him before he could blink.

"Do you wanna try _me_?" she demanded. "Then again, maybe one of you would volunteer to take her place. You're all big men here, right?"

Calley flipped the blade expertly in her hand. "Have you ever stabbed someone, just to watch them die? There's no feeling in the world like it."

With another flick of her wrist she flung the blade into the bathroom door, inches from one of the youth's head. "How about it? Any takers?"

The one she'd nearly impaled swore. "You stay away from me, you crazy whore!"

Karina was astonished to see the three young men behind them inching toward the door.

"You just do your thing, and stay away from us. You won't get off so easy next time!" the boy in front of them spat contemptuously, and he followed the other three out into the hall.

Karina was still staring at Calley as the young woman strode toward the cringing figure on the floor. Karina took a step forward to see an African-American girl who couldn't have been more than fourteen. She sobbed brokenly as Calley bent over her.

"Don't hurt me, please! Please, I'll give you everything I have!"

Calley's face softened as she bowed her head. "I'm so sorry for scaring you, sweetheart. I'm not going to hurt you."

"B-but...you were bluffing? Why would you do that? They were letting you go!"

"Because you're worth it," Calley replied evenly, and gave her a hand off the bathroom floor.

"How did you do that?" the girl asked. "Was _any_ of it true?"

"I _was _with the Dagos," Calley answered. "But I'm not that person anymore...and I was never that bold when I actually ran with the gang. The only way to scare some of these idiots is to act tougher than they do."

Karina shook her head. "You deserve an Oscar for that performance, Calley. Who taught you to handle a knife that way? Was it Leo?"

"No. I actually learned it from my first Dago boyfriend. I haven't done anything like that in years."

"You're my hero," the girl said tearfully.

"We're lucky that they were just stupid punks. That little show wouldn't have made a dent in the real thugs," Calley said ruefully.

Karina sighed shakily. "_Hermana_, you're something else."


	22. Reunited

Katherine shifted her stance with agitation. The landlady tried knocking on the suspect's door first, but there was no answer. Kat could _hear _Reina crying from inside the room, and she wasn't about to stand around and just listen to it.

"Open the door please," Greg requested.

The graying woman hesitated as she fingered her key ring. "I'm supposed to give notice-"

"I'm giving _you_ notice that if you don't unlock that door in two seconds, you're going to have to replace it," Katherine interrupted.

The landlady swallowed as she slipped a key into the lock. Even as Kat leaned forward, Greg stepped directly in her path.

"_No_, James. If you go in there, you could jeopardize any hope we have of prosecuting her. This chick is messed up, and we_ have _to get her behind bars!"

Katherine balked angrily. "That's my baby in there!"

"And I'm going to get her for you, I swear. Stay here so we don't mess this up."

"So_ I _don't mess this up," she muttered, and shook her head. "Go, Greg!"

Katherine paced a couple of times through the narrow hallway as the older woman followed Greg inside. She stiffened when she heard another woman cry out, and a small scuffle. It was all Katherine could do to stand her ground in the hall, and not burst into the room herself. She gripped her arms tightly across her chest, her breathing quickening as the wait continued.

_C'mon, Greg. C'mon, get Reina out of there!_

Her head jerked up when the landlady walked out the door, toting a squirming blanket-covered bundle. Katherine surged toward her, startling the poor woman severely. Reina's head poked out of the blanket, and the baby practically propelled herself out of the stranger's arms. Kat shuddered as she clutched her baby, tears automatically rising as Reina continued to fuss.

"It's okay, baby. I'm here now, Mommy's got you."

Letting go of the little girl long enough to get a good look at her was difficult. Reina was scraped up, and her right ear was leaking fresh blood from an injury that had already been bandaged once.

"My poor baby..." Katherine whispered.

"Kat, go!" Greg's voice called out to her from the next room. "Take Reina, and wait in my Jeep."

_He doesn't want me anywhere near that Alicia woman, and with good reason._

Katherine turned on heel and stalked down the stairs, her every footstep resounding through the house. She marched outside with Reina, and hopped into the front passenger seat of Greg's Liberty.

Reina reached out to grasp the fabric of her shirt as she turned the baby around to face her. "Daddy?"

Kat pulled the girl against her shoulder, resting a hand on the back of her head. "Oh, honey..."

Katherine's relief to be holding her baby safely in her arms was so strong that she wanted to laugh, but grief was winning the battle for supremacy. Kat rocked back and forth on the seat as tears flooded back down her cheeks. The vacuum of emptiness made the world outside the Jeep fade to nothing as she gave full vent to her emotions.

Reina seemed perplexed. As the baby traced her hand over Katherine's chin, the woman stared into the blue eyes that haunted her. Luke's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Reina," she choked. "I should have been there. I should have been there for _both_ of you. God, I'm so sorry."

Katherine almost jumped a mile when Greg knocked on her window. The man gave her an apologetic look.

"Kat, I'd like to take this woman in. There's a Police Station not ten blocks from here. I could leave her here for them to pick up, but I'm afraid she might try to fly the coop before the cops can get around to her. I don't wanna take that chance. Do you?"

"No," Kat said flatly. "Put her in the back. I promise not to kill her for now, but if she says one word to me, all bets are off."

"I can trust you on this?" Greg asked carefully.

"Just put her in the car, Heffernan, so we can go get Karina and Calley!"

Katherine couldn't help staring as Greg led the handcuffed young woman over to the Jeep. She met the bitter brown irises of her daughter's kidnapper, and visualized herself jumping out of the car to strangle the woman with her bare hands. Reina's presence in her arms was the only thing that kept her from following through with the desire.

As Greg slammed the door behind their suspect, the young woman swore.

"I found her alone!" Alicia proclaimed. "Her papers said that her father was dead; I would have protected her!"

Kat whirled around in her seat to fix the girl with a scorching glare. "She _was _being protected, you delusional piece of-"

"I told you not to talk to her!" Greg's harsh tone was directed at the woman in the backseat. "Sit back and keep your mouth shut, or I'll hold you in those handcuffs for the next five hours!"

"Greg, drive," Katherine ordered. "Drive or I'm going to hurt her. I'm being so serious right now."

The man wisely put the Jeep in gear, and started off slowly down the road. His nervous glance told Katherine that he was anxious about not having Reina in a car seat.

_I don't like it either, but there's nothing we can do about it this second, _Katherine told herself. _Maybe the station would have a seat somewhere with all their supplies. It's worth looking into._

She folded her arms protectively over Reina in the meantime. "I've got her, Greg, just watch your speed and all the debris."

"I am, James, believe me."

Katherine stole a glance at him as he focused on the road, and she noticed that his hands were shaking. "Are you all right?"

"How can I be?" he asked. "I hung _up_ on Donny because I couldn't bear to tell him about Luke. How are we supposed to break this to them, Kat?"

She trembled involuntarily. "Not like that," she said softly. "We have to find them first. We have to tell them in person."

"What about your sister and Calley? You know they're going to ask about Luke too."

"Let's cross that bridge when we get there, okay? I'd rather only think about the obstacles that are directly in front of us."

* * *

><p>The two turtles picked their way through the trees silently, as if they were as much a part of the environment as the grass that sprang from the earth. Mike scratched his shoulder where the material of his clothing was rubbing him the wrong way, and wiped perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. He and Raphael weren't expending a lot of energy, but they still weren't used to dealing with the heat of the day beating down on them.<p>

_You'd think I could handle it no sweat after what we went through in the Congo, but it's easy to forget what that was like. A lot of the irritating stuff fades to nothing when I think about what I got out of it, _he mused.

The image of Rebecca feeding Olivia that morning was lingering in his mind, and it made him grin suddenly.

_We haven't talked about it much, but I know she'd make an awesome Mom. A kid could learn so much from her._

Michelangelo broke out of his reverie when he felt his brother's eyes, and glanced over to meet his gaze. "What, Raphy?"

"Nothing - you're just quiet. Are you feeling all right?" Raphael asked the last part gruffly, like he was purposefully forcing the concern out of his voice.

"I'm okay. I've told you that the tightness comes and goes. Sometimes it gets hard to breathe, but for the most part, I bet I'm over the worst of it."

Raphael looked at him warily. "Just pay attention to what your body's telling you, okay, bro? We don't have much medical stuff, and the sooner Donny knows about your symptoms, the better he can take care of you. I think that's how it goes."

Mike nodded rather than responding out loud. He was sick to death of answering the question of whether or not he was "okay".

_Shell, don't they understand I don't get what's happening to me any more than they do? I've never been more confused in my whole life._

The orange-masked turtle shook off his annoyance, and started paying more attention to the incline they were descending. April had gotten through to them about forty minutes prior, and they were on their way off of the Cliff to meet her. She was bringing Marc's Avalanche, which would have enough room for all the turtles, the girls, and the baby.

_Our luggage is sure gonna be a tight squeeze though. We might end up looking like some of those clowns trying to stuff everything in at once. Still, it's better than being stuck here. Spending one night wasn't so bad, except that we didn't know how it was going with everyone else. Now it's all gone downhill again since Donny talked to Heff. I wanna know _what_ Greg said to him. Heff might have to get a piece of my mind the next time I see him._

The purple-masked turtle had been on edge ever since he'd gotten off the phone with Greg. Donny had finally gone to work on his damaged scanner, and hadn't come up for air in hours.

_I can't blame Donny for wanting to get it working. What with everything going on and Reina missing_-An eruption of hot anger cut the thought short, and he slammed his fist against his other palm. _They'd better find her, or the walls of this fort aren't going to pen any of us in. What kind of freaking idiot steals a kid with all that's going on? I guess they have to take an opportunity when it presents itself, _he thought bitterly. _Makes me wanna throw up though._

They stayed in the denser patches of trees for as long as they could, but couldn't avoid the emerging light of day that was waiting on the other side of the forest. Raphael caught his wrist, and they both hesitated as they were nearing the green lawn of the Park. Leonardo had told them not to let anyone see them coming or going from the pathway leading up to the Cliff, lest they inadvertently lead someone to their hiding place. Raphael had scoffed at the blue-masked turtle's warning at the time, but he appeared to be taking it seriously now.

Mike heard nothing but the light breeze swaying the branches above them and scattering a few loose leaves at their feet. As they started walking again, he trod more carefully to avoid even crunching down on the leaf litter. His eyes began scanning faster as they got closer to being exposed in the open. Mike's hand traced a wooden handle of one of his nunchucks every now and then, like he needed to be ready to draw it with a moment's notice.

Raphael swore softly. "Hold up, Mikey. I saw a flash of color beyond those rocks."

"I don't see it."

The red-masked turtle swatted him across the back of the head as Mike froze.

"Well, what are we supposed to do, Raph? We can't run back the way we came without them seeing us, and there's no cover out here!"

"Then we run a different direction," Raphael insisted, but Mike still didn't move.

He was waiting for his own glimpse of the figure, and cocked his head when he saw her. "Don't run, Raph. I think it's April."

"No, Leo told her not to come in this deep by herself."

"That doesn't mean she listened. C'mon, doesn't it look like her?"

Raphael stared, and begrudgingly agreed. They stood still for a few moments longer, ready to bolt if they needed to, until they were certain beyond doubt. Then the turtles broke out into a fast trot to overtake the woman.

"Guys!" April sounded unbelievably relieved and exhausted at the same time. She threw an arm around both of their necks, completely unconcerned at the prospect of becoming a pancake between the two of them.

"You were s'posed to wait for us further out!" Raphael said accusingly.

"It's good to see you too, Raph."


	23. Exhale

***Well, I made you wait for yesterday's chap, because instead of going home after work, I went out with my friends. (I heartily reccomend the new Pirates movie by the way, awesome stuff.) You've all been making me such a happy little author anyway, that I figured I'd release today's chap early. Thanks for reading, you guys.**

* * *

><p>After dropping their mentally disturbed young kidnapper off at the police station, Greg asked Katherine to give him a couple of minutes to examine coordinates with the scanner, so he could get his bearings on the location of MS250. Kat watched in silence while he zipped through menus and began typing rapidly on the keypad. Reina was curled up in her arms, not quite asleep although her eyelids were heavy. Kat ran a finger across the smooth skin on her baby's arm, while trying to avoid looking at the abrasions on her right side, indicating what she and Luke had been through.<p>

_I wish I knew what happened to them. I hope that...that he wasn't in pain. God, I can't bear to think-_

"I suppose picking up the girls is a moot point now," Greg mentioned.

"What? Why?"

"Tim must have gotten to talk to them. Their signals are clustered together, and they're moving fairly quickly. I think it's safe to say that he picked them up."

Katherine nodded. "Well...that's a relief anyway. At least we know that they're in good hands. So what now? I guess we should head to the Park," she said bleakly.

"Kat, I know you wanna see Luke."

"We still don't know where he was taken…" she faltered.

"Triage is sort of on our way to Central Park, and it wouldn't hurt to check up on Benita. Maybe she's already located him," Greg pointed out.

Katherine slumped tiredly against her seat. "Okay, Greg. Let's take the side-trip, and see if they have anything else to tell us."

She glanced down at her wedding band as Greg pulled back onto the street.

_Luke didn't even _have_ the ring when he proposed to me. Of course, that was partially my fault. I was the one who came home from that business trip early, and ruined his carefully laid plans. I was also the one who insisted he tell me what was going on, when it looked like he was ready to burst at the seams._

Memories ran through her mind like snapshots, one right after another. Katherine had never realized how empty her life was before she met Luke. The FBI filled up her time and consumed her energy along with the Taekwondo she studied on the side.

The false pretense of her "satisfying" life came crashing down the moment she woke up in a strange car with a man she didn't recognize, and no memory of how she'd gotten there. Katherine _almost_ smiled as she recalled their first encounter, when Luke refused to even tell her his name.

_He was consumed with protecting the guys of course, and watching out for his own tail. He had no idea how much I remembered from the bombing of the United Nations, and he sure didn't expect me to be able to track him down again._

Katherine slid further into unhappiness, resting her head against the window. She longed for another opportunity to have seen Luke, for a chance to have said goodbye. _As if it would make some difference in the long run_, she thought dully. _Reina won't even remember him. He'll be nothing but a story that I tell her at night when she's going to sleep. She shouldn't have to grow up that way, without even knowing her father. _

Kat fought the tears that wanted to rise, and looked down to see that Reina's eyes were finally closed.

_I'm glad you don't know what's going on, baby, but I know you're going to wonder where he is._

Katherine let the thought fall off in her mind, refusing to continue on. She wanted to silence all of the inner musings and not feel anything at all, just for a few minutes. She focused her attention on the people lining both sides of the street, and heard the booming laughter that carried over from two young men.

_So carefree, even now. It doesn't feel like I'll ever be that free again. The world has stopped spinning for some of us, but life carries on for the rest of them. How can we blame them?_

Katherine closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep, to forget the heaviness weighing down her chest. She wasn't sure how long she actually had her eyes closed, before Greg's voice called her back to reality.

"James. We're here."

Katherine opened her eyes and gazed sadly upon the grouping of tents. More cars were cleared from the street, providing space for Greg to cut down on the walk to Triage.

"Do I have to go in there again?" she murmured.

"No," Greg said at once. "I can check things out."

She shook her head. "He's _my _husband. I'm going too."

Katherine climbed out of the Jeep, shifting a sleepy Reina against her shoulder as she trudged toward the same tent they'd entered the night before. When she saw the check-in table and the familiar woman behind it, Katherine automatically stiffened. Benita looked more haggard, but she was still organizing files in one of the crates, and the woman didn't appear to notice Kat.

"Excuse me," Katherine said evenly.

Benita glanced up, a strangled cry escaping her when she saw Reina in Kat's arms. "Oh, you found her! Mrs. Barrows, I'm so sorry-"

"It wasn't your fault," Katherine interrupted. "We caught the girl who took her, and turned her in to the police."

"No, Mrs. Barrows, it's about your husband-"

"Please don't tell me your people lost _him_." Biting anger returned in a flash.

"No, that's just it," Benita said urgently. "There was a mistake. Someone transposed a couple of digits incorrectly from a patient, and the error snowballed into-"

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Your husband _isn't_ dead, Mrs. Barrows. He's here in Triage, and desperate to see you! We tried getting you on the phone, but very few calls are making it through."

Katherine blinked slowly, as she felt like all the oxygen had been stolen from her lungs.

"He's _alive_?" Greg's voice beside her suddenly reminded Kat that he was there. "Where is he? You have to take us to him right now!"

Katherine was still trapped inside a daze when Greg grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her in the direction that Benita was leading. It took another 90 seconds before cognitive thought could register in Kat's mind, and then she shot Greg an overwhelmed look.

"I don't believe it!" she wavered.

"You're gonna believe it all right." Greg sounded downright joyful, and now he was almost overtaking Benita with his long strides.

Katherine felt a tremor run all the way down her spine as Benita pulled up short, and motioned to a curtain.

"Dr. Barrows is through there. He's been waiting for you since first light this morning."

Katherine felt like she was in slow motion as she slipped through the entrance, and laid eyes on her living, breathing husband.

"_Luke_." No single word she'd ever spoken possessed as much longing as speaking his name did now.

He turned his head and his eyes lit up when he saw her and the baby. "Kat! I've been so worried about you, and they couldn't find Reina-"

"_You've_ been worried?" Katherine repeated shakily.

She burst into sudden unexpected tears as she handed the baby to Greg and bent down to Luke's level so she could reach him. Katherine kissed him with all the strength she had left in her shuddering body. He couldn't move to hold her the way he probably wanted to, but to feel him even trying to kiss her back was more than she could have asked for.

"Kat-" Luke panted after a few seconds. "I have to breathe. Are you all right? Is Reina okay? Have you heard from anyone else?"

"Am I all right?" Katherine wasn't sure how to answer that. "You're alive! Nothing else matters more than that right now!"

His brow furrowed slightly, as he appeared to be stunned by how hard she was crying. "I wasn't home, Kat. I heard that our building collapsed. Did you assume that Reina and I were..."

"No, we got Marc's scanner and tracked you here, Luke. Then they told me you were dead!"

"They did _what_? Who told you?"

"There was some mix-up in their makeshift filing system. When I showed up the woman at check-in told me that you'd passed away."

"Oh my God. You've been walking around thinking-"

"That I'd lost you, and Reina too! Some girl _took_ her, Luke!" Katherine spat fiercely. "She was just a nursing student they brought in to help with the relief effort. The woman carried Reina right out of Triage. Apparently she has a sordid history of trying to pick off someone else's child for herself."

His blue eyes darkened. "Tell me you caught her, Kat. Tell me you got that girl!"

Greg nodded, and appeared to be swallowing back his own emotion. "Yeah, she's behind bars, Luke. With the priors already on her record, this should actually put her away."

Luke ground his teeth in frustration. "I don't believe all this. I'm sorry, Kat. I never imagined that I could cause this much trouble by going to the Pharmacy!"

"As if leaving the loft caused the earthquake? Luke, I'm _ecstatic_ that you weren't there!" Katherine exclaimed passionately.

Greg shuffled closer to the bed and patted Luke's arm. "It's really,_ really _good to see you, Doc."

Luke's eyes softened once more at the sight of his little girl. "It's good to see you too, Greg. I'm glad you're okay. Can you put Reina down for a second? I want to see her."

Greg set Reina down at father's side, and the baby cooed happily as she grabbed a fistful of his blanket. A wide smile revealed tiny white teeth as Reina pulled herself up on her knees.

"Hey, baby girl, I missed you," Luke greeted her, and grazed the top of Reina's head with his hand. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Don't talk like that," Katherine chided.

Luke glanced up swiftly, as if he'd just remembered something. "Do we know anything about the guys?" he asked. "Tell me you've heard something!"

"They're alive and well," Greg offered. "I've reached them a couple of times. They camped out in Central Park last night in some tiny fort."

Luke chuckled, and the sound was pure joy for Katherine to hear.

"So when can _I_ get out of this dump?"

"That's going to depend on what's wrong with you," Kat said frankly. "I was thrilled to find you breathing, but you still don't look great, Luke."

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "At least, I should be. I experienced a complication in connection with my head injury, that created what they think was a blood clot pretty close to my brain."

"What they _think_?"

"Kat, they don't have the equipment they'd need to have actually seen it. They put the pieces together when I had something called a transient ischemic attack."

"English please," she requested.

Luke hesitated. "It's…well, it's basically a mini stroke, but the symptoms can resolve very quickly, usually within a few minutes or hours. One of the doctors on duty theorized it could be related to a blood clot due to other injuries I'd sustained, and they started me on medication to break it up. I'm on the waiting list to get into a hospital, but I really don't think that's going to be necessary."

Katherine was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that he'd just used the word "stroke" so casually. "You're not going _anywhere_ until I know you won't keel over on me. I don't care if you like it or not. Do you have any idea how it felt to think that you were dead?"

He shook his head remorsefully. "I don't want to picture it. I'm sorry, Kat," he repeated.

Katherine felt tears rising again as she slipped her fingers around his hand. "I can't do that again any time in the near future. Make yourself comfortable, and we'll get you out of here as soon as we know it's safe to do so."


	24. Regrouping

***Just have to take a moment to say how touched I am by all the support for Luke out there. I know how _I_ feel about my original characters, but I had no clue that others cared about them so much. In writing a fic, one of my goals is write things in a realistic manner, and in life, people die. But as someone put so eloquently a couple of days ago, sometimes I just don't _care_ about realism. **

* * *

><p>Donatello settled into the back seat of Marc's Avalanche with a heavy sigh, and pressed an arm around Jenna as the woman slid in beside him. He buried his head against hers, breathing in her familiar fragrance.<p>

"How does your hair _always _smell so good?" he murmured.

"I think you must be hallucinating, Donny."

"Mmm...I don't think so."

Jenna twisted her neck so she could kiss him, and everything that had gone wrong in the last 24 hours momentarily buzzed into the background.

Leonardo's persistence in trying to reach Calley had paid off, and they'd found out that Tim had retrieved the two missing women about an hour beforehand. The turtles had been considering their next move, when_ Greg _had shown up at Blockhouse completely unannounced. Donny's nerves shot through the roof when he saw the man, but Greg only had good news to convey, with the exception that Luke was injured.

The purple-masked turtle hated being separated from his good friend, especially if he was hurt. But there was no doubt that Luke needed to stay in Triage, at least for the time being. Katherine had stayed behind to be with him, and had held on to Reina as well.

The rest of the group that had been in contact with each other was already converging on Marc and April's apartment from two directions. April was leading in the Avalanche with Greg following in his Jeep, and Tim was on his way with Calley and Karina from the Lower West Side. They'd considered splitting up, but no one seemed inclined to let each other out of their sight.

"Is Marcus getting any breaks at all?" Donatello called to April.

"He should be asleep now," April returned from behind the wheel. "Though I'm sure they had to pry him away from the medical action with a crow bar. Marc told me he was going to try and crash at the hospital so he'd be more available when things came up. Honestly, he and I live so close to St. Joseph's, it's not a big deal to get there anyway. Not like hiking to meet_ you _guys," she teased.

Leonardo leaned forward on the seat in front of Donatello. "Thank you for coming for us, April. We really appreciate your help, _and_ you letting us stay with you. It's going to be temporary, I mean...none of us want to intrude." The blue-masked turtle looked back at Donatello uncertainly with the last phrase.

"You're not intruding," April said. "Don't you dare think of it that way."

Leonardo maintained his mute glance with Donatello, and the purple-masked turtle could read the question in his mind.

_"Will we be _able_ to go home?"_

Donatello knew that they couldn't risk it for the foreseeable future, but couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud. With the instability of the soil and the likelihood of aftershocks, the safety of their home had been severely compromised.

_It wouldn't be feasible to go back, not for weeks, at least...If it's even still standing._

"Donny?" Leo said questioningly. "What do you think? What are the chances of us getting home soon?"

Don was annoyed with him for asking the question in front of the women, and didn't mind showing it. "I'm not a crystal ball, Leo. I don't know what the conditions of the sewer are, or whether we'll have serious aftershocks. I couldn't recommend that we try to return right now."

Leonardo nodded, as if he'd assumed that eventuality all along.

_Then why the shell did he have to make me _say_ it?_

Donatello shook off his irritation with his older brother, and directed his voice toward April. "So we know about everyone, except for Brandon?"

Relief had flooded his mind now that he knew Luke was stable, but the question of their missing friend's location lay heavy in the air.

"Bran's gonna be fine, Don," Leonardo said confidently. "You heard Greg. Brandon's been moving around in the same neighborhood as the Civic Center, and Greg's going to go pick up his trail as soon as we get settled in at the apartment."

"Maybe I should go with him," Donatello mentioned.

Jenna's hand immediately drew his chin toward her. "No, Don. I'm putting my foot down. It's still daylight, and Greg doesn't need you to hold his hand. He knows how to handle the scanner; he's been using it all day!"

"That isn't the point, Jen. Greg hasn't even had any sleep."

"Say what you want, Donny. You're not going," she replied matter-of-factly.

Donatello shrugged half-heartedly. "I just want to help."

"There are plenty of ways you can help, that don't involve exposing yourself to hundreds of people in the process."

"When have I_ ever _exposed myself to hundreds of people, Jen?"

"You've come close a couple of times."

Donatello couldn't think of a suitable answer for that, so he glanced at Leonardo instead. The older turtle was shifting on the seat, looking uncharacteristically antsy, although one hand was resting on the orange and white cat stretched out beside him.

_He's anxious to see Calley. She's the only one who can get him riled up like this_, he thought with amusement.

When Donny's gaze traveled to the window, his smile faded. Seeing the damage that had been inflicted upon the city up close was painful.

_It could have been worse_, he surmised. _But it's still changed a lot of people's lives, including ours...Luke and Kat are going to have to move again, and start over completely. They lost everything. As bad as that seems, though, it's nothing compared to any of them losing their lives._

Donatello swallowed as he recalled Greg telling them about the mistake the Triage Center made in declaring Luke dead.

_I'm glad he didn't tell us right away._

He spied Greg's Jeep through the back window, and randomly wondered if Raphael and Mike were already getting on the man's nerves. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Jenna staring at the debris outside.

"What are we going to do?" Jenna asked quietly. "We can't hang out in our friends' apartments indefinitely. No offense to you, April, but its dangerous."

"No offense taken, Jen," the red-head returned.

Leo and Donny exchanged another glance.

"We're going to have to discuss it with everyone else," Leonardo said. "We'll strategize today, and see what solutions exist."

"The only strategy I want right now is some way to get through this traffic faster," April grumbled.

"Hey, April, you could use the surface-to-air missiles to...Wait, I'm thinking of the Battle Shell," Donatello said impishly.

April shook her head as she glanced at the rear-view mirror to see him. "That's good, Don, because if you installed missiles on the Avalanche without telling anyone, we might have a problem."

* * *

><p>Raphael's grin spread from ear to ear when he noticed Tim's Crossover parked about three blocks before Marc and April's building. The Avalanche had already pulled off to the side of the road ahead of it, and Greg drove up right next to Tim. The sandy-haired man put down the passenger side window and stretched to see the other car better. "Hey! Everyone okay over there?"<p>

Tim nodded. "I don't think I'm going to try and get any closer though. You and April should keep going with the guys, don't you think?"

"We'll get them as close to the apartment as we can. Do you have to report back to the Police Station?"

"I need to get some sleep first," Tim replied.

"You and me both, brother."

Raphael carefully peered through the window from the back seat, waving when he saw the women. "See, Liv? There's your Mama. She's fine."

The little turtle smacked the glass with her open palm, babbling nonsensically.

Michelangelo chuckled beside him. "It sounds like she has a lot to say on the matter."

Raphael punched the orange-masked turtle in the arm. It felt so good to see Karina, he found that he could laugh too.

Greg's voice carried through the car once more. "We have to figure out how to get the guys into the building without anyone noticing them, so I'm going to get moving."

"If that's the biggest problem we face today, we're a shell of a lot better off than this time yesterday," Raphael inserted.

"See you in a little while!" Tim responded.

Greg waved one more time before putting the window up. The man flashed his headlights at April, and she pulled the Avalanche back out in front of him.

"As long as no one can see us close up, what's the problem?" Raphael asked. "We've got the clothes to fit in."

Greg's shoulders rose slightly. "We'll see how things look when we get there."

Raphael exhaled deeply as he ran his fingers over Olivia's shell.

_Feels so much better to know everybody's okay. I wonder what we're gonna do though. We sure can't all hole up in this building forever_.

Olivia bounced up and down on Raphael's lap excitedly, and he jarred when he remembered that he should be keeping her further away from the window.

"You're getting too hyper now, _Kouen_," he chided.

She giggled as he planted her on the seat in between him and Mike. Michelangelo reached behind the seat for her bag, and immediately produced a plastic container of her cereal.

_He sure does come in handy sometimes._

Olivia opened her mouth to accept the food from his brother's hand, and wriggled happily on the seat by the two turtles.

"She's too cute." Rebecca turned around to stare at the three turtles.

Raphael shook his head._ Kid should be allowed to be happy, without me having to stifle her 'cause I'm afraid someone will see._

Greg followed April as she drove around to the service entrance of the apartment building. When she parked, he got out to meet her by himself, and they had a short discussion before Greg returned.

"I don't give those two enough credit," Greg muttered. "April got herself on the building committee, just so she could have access to the keys to make 'inspections'. She can get you guys in the service door. If you go up a few flights of the back stairs, and _then_ hop out to the fire escape, you'll avoid notice on almost every front. I think it's a better solution than trying to use the fire escape the whole way up in broad daylight. April and Marc took the time to think things through well before today."

"When you've been with us as long as Ape has, it's only natural." Michelangelo snorted.

Raphael felt bad for covering Olivia's mouth with his hand a few times on their way up through the building, but they didn't need an outburst from her at the wrong moment. The turtles had to climb four sets of stairs before they could exit the building through a window in the communal laundry room, and ascend to the fire escape directly above it.

The entire maneuver only took about fifteen minutes to complete, but Raphael was grateful for the tension that eased out of his muscles as they filed into the apartment from the balcony on the side of the guest room.

_It's amazing how much harder it's gotten to stay calm_.

He wanted to walk around in the same cocky frame of mind he always had, but the addition of Olivia changed everything, at least as far as her protection was concerned. Keeping her safe had become the ultimate directive.

Raphael put the baby down on the soft carpet in the bedroom, and she started crawling rapidly, as if she were a puppy who'd been held on a leash for too long.

_She's her own person, that's for sure_, he thought proudly. _She still wants to be cuddled and all, but at the end of the day, Liv wants to do her own thing. Kid has more in common with me than her features._

He rolled his eyes as he considered what that might actually mean for the little turtle.

_Hope she's not _too_ much like me, or she'll have to learn everything the hard way. You'll be smart enough to learn from us, won't you, Kid?_

Olivia had crawled a half circuit around the bed before she turned to look for Raphael. She held out her arms to the red-masked turtle in a gesture to be picked back up.

_Stay small as long as you can, Liv._


	25. Waiting to Plan

The orange-masked turtle was _trying_ to listen to what Leonardo was saying to the rest of the group, but his brother's words kept running together as Michelangelo struggled to keep his eyes open.

_Shouldn't be this tired_, he thought morosely.

Mike pinched his own arm in an effort to wake himself up further, and shifted on the couch so he would be sitting up straight. That was when he realized that the entire circle of faces was looking at him.

_Shell, you're real subtle, Mikey._

"Sorry, Leo. You were saying?" Mike flashed his oldest brother a goofy smile, but it didn't feel genuine.

"Mike, why don't you get some rest, okay?" Leonardo suggested. "All we're doing here is talking and kicking around ideas."

"Yeah, why would you need _me_ for brainstorming?" The weariness put Michelangelo on edge, and he found himself immediately turning defensive.

"No one said we didn't need you, Mike," the blue-masked turtle replied patiently. "I'm just pointing out that we're only theorizing. We wouldn't make any big decisions without you. With as sick as you've been, you have to take it a little easy."

"No one's kicking you out, bro," Raphael added. "But you have the option to kick _yourself _out if you need to."

"I'm not going anywhere until we hear back from Greg about Brandon," Mike replied stubbornly.

"You think Heff's not gonna catch up with Brandon unless you stay up waiting for him?" Raphael returned.

"I won't be able to relax until I know everyone's in one piece. I'm fine, so you guys are free to lay off," he finished a little sharply.

Rebecca's fingers played across the surface of the skin on his arm, and Michelangelo felt apprehension in her touch. He met her blue-green eyes without speaking, then glanced back at his brothers.

"I'm grouchy, all right? I can admit it," Mike allowed. "It's been a rough couple of days, and I really don't want to abandon ship until we hear from Heff. If I accidentally nod off, can you resist giving me a tongue lashing?"

Michelangelo tried to ignore the way Leonardo and Raphael glanced at each other, and focused on Donatello instead. The purple-masked turtle looked skeptical, but he didn't make an outright objection to Mike refusing to rest.

_That's right, just let me be, and I'll crash when I have no other choice._

"Well, then...as I was saying," Leonardo started once more. "It may become necessary for us to consider shelter that's outside our immediate comfort zone. No one can deny that we're putting ourselves at risk by staying in one of these populated buildings."

"You say we gotta think about leaving, Leo, but where are we supposed to go?" Raphael wanted to know.

Michelangelo watched the red-masked turtle's gaze track over to Karina, who was holding a momentarily contented Olivia in her lap.

"We have the plane," Donatello said quietly. "At least...I think the Gulfstream should be fine. Greg's been keeping it out close to Newark."

"And there's the small issue of getting there," Leonardo reminded him. His dark eyes flicked to Calley.

The young woman cleared her throat. "A lot of the bridges are completely closed to traffic, and even if they weren't...the sheer volume of people trying to escape Manhattan would make it extremely difficult. We heard that motorized vehicles aren't getting off the island yet."

"So we can't go home, and we can't get out of the city. Where exactly does that leave us?" Jenna wondered.

"You guys know that Marc and I will go to any length to protect you," April mentioned.

"And we're grateful, April, but you can't do that forever," Donny said quietly. "There's a good reason we live underground. The stakes are higher now than they've ever be-"

The purple-masked turtle cut himself off as a now familiar rumble overtook the room. Mike was on his feet with everyone else in a flash, ready to run to the closest doorway.

_That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?_

Mike's heart continued racing, even after the short tremor ceased. Silence filled the air for a couple of seconds, before Olivia inevitably started whimpering. At the same time, Mike suddenly felt Tiger's claws digging into his leg. The feline appeared to be trying to climb up his limb.

"Ow! Raph, get your cat before she mauls me!"

Raphael bent down near the floor to pry the cat off of Michelangelo's leg, and scooped the animal up in his arms. The rest of the room let out a collective exhale, as it seemed the quake had been extremely minor.

"So was that-" Leonardo began.

"Aftershock. A small one," Donatello filled in.

"Are they all gonna be like that?" Raphael asked.

Donatello shrugged. "I can't predict them, bro."

"It only reinforces the fact that we need to get somewhere safer," Karina murmured.

"Yeah, but how?" Jenna repeated.

"It sounds like we're going to have to wait things out for a little while, until we can find out more about the condition of the rest of the city," Leonardo said thoughtfully.

"And there's the Battleshell to consider too," Donatello offered. "Provided that it's still in one piece, I'd kind of like to find it."

Calley made a face. "I'm sorry we had to abandon the van, Don."

Donatello waved her off. "It wasn't your fault. I just don't want to leave it to the elements indefinitely. It'd be nice to have the Battleshell back."

"Gotta second that," Raphael muttered. "You and I have put way too many hours into that machine, Genius."

"What about a boat?" Mike asked. The thought had occurred to him out of the blue, and he blurted it out without hesitation.

"What about it?" Raphael returned gruffly.

"We could use one to get off the island," Mike replied. "We can't drive. But why couldn't we use the water?"

"We'd have to find a vessel first," Leonardo said slowly, his glance circling the room. "But with some help from the others, it would probably be feasible. It's simply a matter of getting _all _of our heads together. Obviously we're not going anywhere for right now, so I think we should be getting some rest."

April took that as her cue to begin setting up sleeping arrangements in separate areas of the apartment. The space wasn't enormous by anyone's standard, but it was still generously sized for a New York City apartment, almost rivaling Luke and Kat's loft.

_Or it _did _rival it anyway_, Mike thought sadly._ I can't believe this has happened to them. Will Luke ever get to keep _anything_ he loves?_

Michelangelo's eyes traveled to the gathering darkness outside, while the others started to settle in further to the apartment. The orange-masked turtle wasn't interested in moving presently. The burst of energy that had struck him when the tremor had started under their feet now seemed like a distant memory.

_I'm starting to wonder if I'll _ever_ feel completely normal again. I can't stand having everyone up in arms over me, but I can't blame 'em either. If it was one of the other guys under this…whatever it is, I'd be doing the same thing. What I wouldn't give for two days in a row where I could breathe without any issues. There's got to be some kind of relief up ahead. There just _has_ to be. Even if it takes a bunch of needles to get there, I've got to bite the bullet and go through with it. I'm sick of being sick, and I'm sure the docs are tired of it too._

There was a coded knock at the door, and some of the activity in the room ceased.

_Greg! I hope he brought Brandon back with him._

Michelangelo braced both arms on the couch to rise, but Rebecca got to the door much faster than he probably could have.

_I shouldn't be answering it anyway, huh? I could just imagine a neighbor's reaction to getting a look at me._

He saw Greg enter the room as he'd expected, but the man had come alone.

"Sorry I took so long. Getting anywhere quickly is sort of out of the realm of possibility at the moment," Greg volunteered.

"You look exhausted, Greg. Did you catch up with Brandon?" Rebecca asked.

He nodded. "I'll tell you guys all about it, but I need to do a few things first. I'm dying to get out of these shoes."

As the sandy-haired man took another step, he stumbled precariously against the wall.

Rebecca surged forward at the same time as she cried out. "Donny!"

The purple-masked turtle shot past Michelangelo like a blur. "Greg, are you all right? Do you feel dizzy?"

"I need to sit down," he admitted.

"Before you _fall _down," Donatello finished. He efficiently guided Greg to the couch that was opposite the one on which Mike had been sitting.

The orange-masked turtle inched closer as Donny dropped to his knees on the floor. "Heff, are you okay?"

The man offered Mike a reassuring smile. "'M fine. I've just been going, going, going...when I probably should have stopped at some point."

Donny shook his head. "_Probably_, Heff," he said pointedly. "Becky, can you grab him some water?" Donatello directed the question over his shoulder, then turned back to Greg. "Are you experiencing anything besides dizziness?"

"My stomach is in danger of imploding."

"Does that mean that you're hungry, or that you're about to throw up?"

"I couldn't eat anything," Greg said quickly.

Donatello reached for the man's wrist, and timed his pulse. "Your heartbeat is a little irregular, and you look flushed to me. Can you sit up further for a minute? I just want to get your outer layer off."

Michelangelo reached for his friend's shoes, while Donatello helped remove his thicker shirt. Greg fought to sit up completely, but Donatello stopped him.

"Just relax for a few minutes, Heff. Everything else can wait," Don told him.

"I want to fill everyone in," he replied insistently.

Michelangelo saw Becky coming out of the corner of his eye, and made room for the woman to get to Greg.

"Get some water down, and you can tell us what you know about Brandon," Donatello instructed.

As the man sipped out of the sport-cap on a bottled water, Mike felt someone else enter the room, and looked back to see Leonardo.

"Is everything okay?" Leo asked at once.

"It will be," Don answered. "Greg just appears to be suffering from some exhaustion. The prescription for that is pretty simple."

"_Sleep_," the man croaked.

"Exactly," Donatello said kindly. "Did you get enough water?"

"For now," Greg replied. "Brandon is okay. He's still in the neighborhood of the Civic Center; he crashed at FBI headquarters last night. Bran told me he was waiting for a cab when the initial quake hit. He started off on foot, and got sidetracked helping a few people. After he started, it was hard to quit. He's been working alongside some rescue teams that are focused in that vicinity."

"He's off playing hero," Mike commented. _While the rest of us are just sitting. Shell, I wish I was with him, _he added inwardly.

"They've kept him busy," Greg continued. "But he's in good shape, and he was happy to know that everyone is okay. Brandon never had any luck getting through on the phone."

Donatello rolled his eyes. "I hope the difficulty with communications can be resolved sooner than later. The lack of reliable contact is only hampering the effort to put the pieces back together."

Greg shook his head. "They're not even close to finding real order. I heard that the National Guard is being called in, and a city-wide curfew has been instated."

"I hope that can cut down on some of the violence," Leonardo murmured. "Then again, after dark we're pretty handy in that department ourselves."

The man pushed his way upright despite the way Donatello protested. "Please don't even think about it, at least, not for the next couple of nights. We _just _got everybody back together. The last thing I want to do is worry about something happening to any of you out there," Greg finished with a surprising amount of emotion.

Leonardo looked a little surprised, but then nodded slowly. "Given the circumstances…you're probably right."

Michelangelo looked at Greg closely as the man leaned back against the couch.

"You don't know what it was like, thinking that Luke was dead," Greg said quietly. "I can't take any more stress on that level for a while."


	26. Worse

The sound of footsteps rapidly coming down the hall drew Donatello awake before the shadowed figure even reached the office.

Don sat up on one elbow, shifting carefully on the air mattress so he wouldn't wake up Jenna.

"Who's there?" he called softly.

"Don, I need you." Rebecca's voice was quiet too, but her tone was urgent. "It's Mike."

The purple-masked turtle extricated himself from the blanket without another word, and followed Becky out of the room.

"He's having a really hard time catching his breath - he couldn't stop coughing," she explained.

Donatello yanked his duffle bag off the floor from behind the couch as they cut through the living room.

"Donny?" Leonardo was already sitting up on the pull-out bed. "What's going on?"

Rebecca's hand grazed Donatello's arm in her haste, so that he didn't even slow down to address his brother. "I don't know, Leo. I'll get back to you."

He was confused when he didn't see Mike in the bed in the guest room, but Rebecca gestured toward the door to the balcony. "Out there. He didn't want to wake up the rest of the apartment. I can't get Mike to come back inside - he just asked for you."

Donatello peered out on the overlook, and stepped into the night air. The acrid smell of smoke met him almost instantly. Michelangelo was curled up in the corner of the balcony, his choking muffled by the way he had his chin buried in his hands.

"Mike," Donny said a little reproachfully. "What are you thinking? This is the last place you should be." When his brother didn't even attempt to reply, he got down on the ground beside him, and tried raising Mike's head. Don was surprised to see tears in his blue eyes.

"It's going to be okay," Donatello reassured him, reaching for the bag laced over his shoulder. "First, I'm going to get an oxi on you, and then I'm taking you back to bed. You know we _gave_ you the guest room so you'd sleep better."

The orange-masked turtle shook his head, and fiercely wiped away a trailing tear. "I can't-" A wheeze deep in his chest cut off anything else he was _going_ to say.

"Mike, it's a little too cold out here, and the air quality isn't helping matters," Donatello told him, slipping the mask over his brother's head.

Michelangelo slumped wearily against him. "I'm so tired," he mumbled.

"You need some real sleep. You'll feel better in the morning," Donatello replied. _Am I trying to convince him, or myself, _he wondered silently.

Michelangelo didn't answer, gasping as he tried to regulate his breathing with the aid of the oxi.

"_Slowly_," Donatello reminded him. "Take deeper breaths...and exhale gradually. I'm gonna get you up, okay?"

The orange-masked turtle didn't budge when Donatello first tugged on his arm, only giving in to Donny after he braced both arms under his. Mike didn't make very much ground on the attempt, and Donatello's grip tightened.

"It's okay. Concentrate on breathing."

He supported most of Michelangelo's weight on the way into the apartment, and Rebecca backpedaled to give them some space. When she noticed Donatello steering Mike toward the bed, she hurried to pull the blankets back.

Michelangelo focused a pleading gaze on the young woman. "Beck, somethin' hot might help..."

"I'll get some tea going," she replied immediately.

Donatello watched curiously as Mike stared after her retreating form, and his brother sighed shakily.

"Don, I'm scared," he admitted. "It's not better, it's not _getting_ better. It _hurts_..." His chest heaved with the effort of the speech.

"Take it easy, Mike. I want to know how you're feeling, but you don't have to get it all out at once."

"I didn't want...Becky...to hear."

"You don't want her to know, Mike? How long do you think _that _will last?"

His brother shook his head in apparent frustration. "It's so tight...worse tonight than it has been."

Donatello fought to maintain his composure. "Stress could be contributing to the condition too. I'm here, Mikey, and I'm not going to leave your side, okay? I want to test your actual blood oxygen level like I did before."

Mike nodded mournfully while Donatello dug back into his bag to retrieve the small device. Don took a reading from his brother's finger, and was waiting for the results to load when he suddenly felt like someone's eyes were glued to the back of his head. When Donny turned, he saw Leonardo standing in the doorframe.

"I need a few more minutes, okay, Leo?" Donatello requested.

"It's a problem if I'm standing here?"

"I could work easier if you would give us a little space," Donatello fought to keep his voice even. Some of the irritation he'd been harboring toward his oldest brother from the car ride to the apartment building was trying to surface.

"The room is plenty big enough, Don," Leo replied maddeningly.

"I don't _need _you looking over my shoulder." Donatello couldn't erase the edge from his tone.

"If you were completely up front with me, I wouldn't _have_ to look over your shoulder."

Donatello's eyes widened slightly. "Why are you doing this _now_? I don't need the distraction, Leo. Would you please back off and let me get something done?"

"I'm not stopping you from doing anything!"

The sight of Rebecca standing behind Leonardo in the hall was the only thing that made Donatello cut off the frustrated growl with which he _wanted_ to respond. The blue-masked turtle glanced over his shoulder in time for the young woman to motion both brothers out into the hallway with the darkest look that Donatello had seen on her face.

"What's the problem here?" she demanded under her breath. "It isn't enough that he can hardly breathe, Mike has to listen to you guys fight too? You know how much he hates that!"

Donatello colored instantly. "I'm sorry, Becky."

"Don't apologize to me, just go work out _whatever _this is, and don't come back until you do."

"I really wasn't finished with him," Donny said meekly.

"I'm staying with Mike, so I can get you if necessary. Go talk, and when you're both on an even ground, you can return to help him."

Donatello felt like planting a palm on his forehead._ This isn't the first time that Leo and I have brought Mike into the middle of a disagreement. I don't know why we do it, but it has to stop._

Donny cast Leonardo a swift glance, but looked away from his brother before Leo could make eye contact with him. As they headed toward the office, Jenna's head appeared from around the door.

"Hey, guys," she said sleepily. "What are you doing? Is something wrong?"

"Mike," Donatello replied softly, and he cast another apprehensive glance at Leonardo.

Jenna looked back and forth between the serious faces of the two turtles, and she took a sharp breath. "I'll just give you some space."

The woman stepped discreetly out of the way, and Leonardo nodded toward the office for Donatello to continue.

"I don't like being kept out of the loop, Don," he said when the door shut behind them. "I know you're trying to protect us-"

"This isn't about being protective, Leo! I don't _know_ what's wrong with him. There's a big difference between not wanting to tell you something, and not being able to. The testing that we've already completed on Mike was inconclusive."

"Meaning what?"

"We know there's something wrong - that's evidenced by the symptoms. That doesn't mean we know what's _causing_ them. It's possible that his sickness is rooted in something at the cellular level. That's why we need to do a biopsy."

"Is it your opinion that he's getting worse?" Leonardo asked.

"That's difficult to say, Leo. Mike thinks that he is, and that's enough for me to take it seriously."

"How?" Leonardo's gaze became unfocused as his eyes clouded over. "We can't go home. Doc's place is destroyed. How are we supposed to get him medical treatment?"

Donny shook his head vaguely. "I don't know. I'm going to keep a close eye on him for the next few hours while he's using the oxi. I don't want his oxygen absorption rate to start slipping, so I've got to be proactive."

"And the oxi will help with that?"

"To a point. At the very least, it delivers a higher rate of oxygen to his lungs."

The blue-masked turtle looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry for butting in on you, Donny. It isn't that I don't trust you. I just know that you have a hard time coming out with certain things, and...you didn't exactly volunteer a lot of information on the earthquake."

"Again, Leo, there's a difference between withholding information, and not _having_ any. Anything I could have told you while we were underground would have been conjecture and theories. Was I supposed to try and scare everyone just for kicks?"

"No, I...I guess not," Leonardo said quietly. "I'm all tied up in knots, Don. This feels like a nightmare that isn't going to end anytime soon."

Donatello sighed wearily. "I know, Leo. I was thinking...I'm not sure..."

His older brother looked up at him, dark eyes encouraging him to continue.

"I don't think we're going to be safe inside the city for quite some time," Donatello continued.

Leonardo shook his head. "I don't either. As hard as it is to imagine, leaving feels like the only option."

"Well, it doesn't...it wouldn't mean forever," Don said weakly. "But there's still the question of where we would go, and who..."

"Who would be going with us," Leonardo finished flatly. "Don't think it hasn't occurred to me. All of our friends can't uproot their lives to follow us, and I wouldn't want them to."

Donatello rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I don't know what the answer is, Leo, but we're going to figure it out. At the moment, I'm more worried about Mike."

"I think you should get back to him. I'm sorry for interrupting." Leonardo pointed him toward the hall.

"Leo, when I find something, when I really know what's going on, I'll tell you. I promise."

The blue-masked turtle nodded.

Donatello headed through the hall to return to the guest room. He inched the door open and saw Rebecca seated cross-legged on the mattress, leaning against the headboard. Michelangelo's eyes were closed, but Donatello could tell he wasn't close to being asleep. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds, and watched Mike's plastron shudder. His breathing seemed more regular, but it still sounded shallow.

Rebecca's gaze was softer than before. "Am I going to be in the way?"

Donatello shook his head. "No, Becky. I just want to finish testing a couple of things. Mike, open your eyes, bro."

The orange-masked turtle raised his head slightly. "Are you guys honestly fighting because of _me_? I don't think it's the time for that." His voice sounded a bit hollow behind the mask.

"Neither do we, Mike. I think it's just stress...it's affecting all of us. But Leo and I are fine. Do you mind if I pick up where I left off?"

Mike shrugged. "You're the expert."

_I wish_, Donatello thought silently. _Then I might be able to get some clue here._

Donatello squinted to read the numbers on the device that measured Michelangelo's oxygen levels, and his sleep-deprived eyes struggled to make them out. _His rate of oxygen is higher than the day he passed out...but there's still no answer as to why it would be dropping at all. I'm going to have to stay on top of this._

"What does it say, Don?" Mike asked.

"It isn't as low as it's been before," Donatello told him carefully.

"But it's not where it should be?" Mike clarified.

"I'm going to keep you on the oxi, and I'll stay close by to monitor your levels tonight."

"Why? What aren't you telling me?"

"It isn't like that, Mike-"

"Then what's it like?"

"I don't have access to our regular machines that would record your vitals, Mike, so I have to do this the old-fashioned way."

"What's old-fashioned?" Becky asked.

"It means I have to take my own readings every hour or so."

"Would you like to sleep in the bed with us?" Mike smirked behind the mask.

Donatello couldn't keep from smiling too. "I don't want to cramp your style, bro."

His younger brother chuckled, but the laugh dissolved into a coughing fit. Donatello immediately moved to help him sit up further, and waved at Becky to help him. Donny waited a few nerve-wracking moments for Mike's breathing to settle down, and his brother's eyes were watering by the time he finished.

"You need to be propped up," Donatello said decisively. "Maybe you should try getting down some of the tea Becky made." From where Donatello was sitting, the mug looked completely untouched.

"You're gonna stay, aren't you?" Mike asked hoarsely.

"Of course, Mikey. I won't leave you."

Mike sniffed as he rested his head back against the extra pillows that Becky had adjusted behind him. "I'm tired, Don."

_So am I, _he thought ruefully, but squeezed his brother's wrist encouragingly. "You just relax, and try to leave the worrying to me."


	27. Priorities

Leonardo was already awake when the key turned in the deadbolt, and he immediately sat up on the pull-out couch as Marcus came quietly inside the apartment.

"Hey, Marc." Leo's eyes were adjusted to the darkness enough to see the man, but the way Marcus jerked indicated that he'd startled him.

The man took a shaky breath. "Geesh, Leo. It's 4am. Why aren't you asleep?"

The blue-masked turtle cast a glance at the young woman sleeping beside him. _Calley looks far enough under that it should be safe for me to move without bothering her. _

Leonardo got to his feet silently, and waved a hand toward the kitchen.

"What is it, Leo? Why are you up?" Marcus asked in his typical soft-spoken manner.

"I haven't slept much. Too many things running through my mind."

Marc shook his head. "You need rest - _all_ of you do."

The turtle peered at Marcus more closely under the stark lighting of the kitchen, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes. "We're not the only ones, Marc. You've been working too hard."

The man shrugged. "There's too much to do at a time like this."

"Did they kick you out of the hospital?"

"Kind of," he admitted. "I wasn't obeying the guidelines per the length of my shifts."

"I can tell," Leonardo said seriously. "Are you going to get some sleep?"

"I'm going to, but I want to look in on that little brother of yours first."

"Are you talking about Mike?"

Marcus nodded. "I got a text from Donny."

"Ah. So you're _not _just here because the staff kicked you out."

"Let's just say I didn't have any temptation to fight them on it."

"Don't let me waste any more of your time then," Leo said quickly, but then gave Marcus a lingering glance. "I appreciate you being here for Mike. I know you've been working extremely hard, and that this is the last thing that you need to get bogged down with-"

"You can save your breath, Leo. If I'd known Mike was struggling this way, I would have been here a lot sooner. There are priorities, and there are _priorities_. You guys are at the top of my list."

"I'm grateful," Leo replied. "But at the same time, you have a responsibility to your _real_ patients."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "What does that make you, _fake_ ones? Please. I get more of a workout from you and your brothers' antics than anything I've ever done in the hospital."

"That's my point."

"What do you expect me to do? Cast all of you to the back of the line?" Marcus scoffed. "_You_ put everyone else ahead of your own health and safety. If Luke and I don't stand in the gap for you, who's going to?"

Leonardo studied the man for a few more seconds. "I guess I should make some more coffee."

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "Do I dare trust you with that task?"

At Leonardo's withering glance, Marc forced a chuckle.

"Yeah, I know nothing's very funny right now," Marcus said. "Is there any coffee _left_?" He nudged the can that was already sitting on the counter top.

"Yeah, Don wouldn't wipe you out," Leonardo answered. _Though I know I've heard it come on at least a couple of times_, he added inwardly. _I'm glad Marc is here, but I hope he and Donny _both_ can rest soon._

The blue-masked turtle cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyway. I'll start another pot, and you can head back to Mikey if you want. April put him and Becky in the guest room."

"Try to relax a little, Leo," Marcus said evenly. "I know a lot of things are up in the air, but we're together. That's the important thing, right?"

Leonardo nodded, and began measuring some grounds as the man left the room. He took a couple of minutes to look over the machine before he even attempted to start it.

_This looks simple enough. Even_ I_ can't screw it up._

He hit the button to begin the brewing instantly, and was annoyed when nothing happened.

_What could I be doing wrong? C'mon, this isn't rocket science._

Leonardo felt rather than heard someone coming, and glanced over his shoulder to watch Donatello stagger into the kitchen.

"Oh, _shell_. C'mere and sit down, Don."

The purple-masked turtle shook his head and pointed at the coffee maker. "What are you doing over there? We can't afford to lose that machine."

"I haven't done anything," he grumbled. "I couldn't make it work."

A weary smile traced Donatello's lips. "It isn't your fault, Leo. I think the coffee maker was caught in a power surge at some point over the last two days. The timer is messed up, and now it won't brew at all without a little finagling. I could probably fix it for them-"

"I doubt that should be your first priority, Don. Can you make it work temporarily again? Marc looks like he's about to drop, and you're not much better."

His brother tapped an indiscernible pattern over the digital display, then hit the brew button twice to get it powered up.

"Sit down and talk to me, Donny. How's Mike?"

His younger brother's shoulders rose. "I don't know. His oxygen rate remains more stable when he's using the oxi. When I tried to wean him off of it, his numbers started dropping again."

"And he shouldn't need it like that."

"No, Leo, not if everything was normal. But it isn't." Donatello rested his forehead on the table top as the coffee maker began to churn out dark liquid.

"Don, you need to get to bed."

"I need to talk to Marc. We have to compare notes."

"Is Mike resting?"

"He's sleeping fairly well. The coughing fits haven't been as frequent."

Leonardo didn't know what to say. He _wanted_ answers, but he knew that Donatello didn't have any. "Don, look. I know you're doing the best you can, and I really am sorry about what I said earlier. I shouldn't have assumed you were holding out on us."

Donatello's brown eyes flicked up to meet his steady gaze. "I wish I _could_ just protect everyone. I wish I was helping _him_."

"You are helping him," Leonardo corrected. "Everything is going to work out somehow, just like it always does. In the meantime, I think we both need to concentrate harder on staying positive."

Donny nodded as he slumped backwards against his chair. "This night will end, won't it?"

"All of them do eventually, bro."

* * *

><p>Mike was startled when he woke up to bright sunlight streaming into the bedroom from the balcony door. His glance traveled across the room, and he instantly recalled where he was.<p>

_That's right. We're on one of those "extended" field-trips._

He reached up to adjust the oxi that was still affixed over his mouth, and pulled the mask off experimentally.

_Last night must not have gone well._

Michelangelo's chest shuddered as he took an intentionally deeper breath, but it wasn't_ as _tight as he remembered it feeling.

_Wow, those muscles still aren't giving in easily._

He concentrated through a couple more shallow breaths, to see if they would be less painful. The bed felt empty without Rebecca beside him, and he had no real desire to stay in it. The orange-masked turtle glanced at the time on his phone, and grimaced when he realized that it was almost noon.

Mike has just thrown his legs over the side of the bed when the cell vibrated. One more look at the facing of his phone succeeded in exciting him. "Hey, Bran! How are you doing, dude?" He forced strength into his voice so that he would sound semi-normal.

"I'm okay," the man replied. "It's been uh...pretty intense out here. All in all, though, I feel like one of the lucky ones."

"You got drafted into service, huh? How's it feel to be playing the hero?"

"I couldn't tell you right now - I'm too tired. I was actually about to go and crash, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try and reach someone."

"You're being safe, aren't you, Bran? You're not like taking your life into your own hands, are you?"

"No more than usual," he cracked.

Michelangelo couldn't muster a smile _or_ a response.

"I'm not doing anything truly dangerous," Brandon said more seriously. "I'm just helping out wherever I can. Oh, and I kicked the crap out of a couple of thugs who were trying to mug someone last night, so that was cool."

Michelangelo huffed good-naturedly. "At least _one_ of us gets to have some fun."

"Trust me, Mikey, I'd rather be doing it with you. How are you feeling? You sound a little...ragged."

"It was a rough night," he answered. "Donny had me on the oxi from about midnight on."

"They're taking good care of you, I trust."

There was a light quality to Brandon's tone, but Michelangelo knew he was only trying to cover up nerves. "Yeah, of course. Are you going to get some sleep, Brandon?"

"I'm on my way. There are still structures left to be searched, but the extra help has already started showing up. Once the National Guard arrives in force, I think things will get a little more organized."

"That would be a good thing. Calley said things are pretty bad on the Lower West Side."

"It's pretty bad all over. If you could see what I've seen over the last two days..." Brandon faltered, and didn't finish the sentence. "Not that I need to tell you. You guys haven't exactly had it easy."

"You mean between running for our lives, seeing Donny almost drown, and trying to stay hidden in plain sight? Yeah, it's been a trip, Bran," he said glumly. "Add in not being able to breathe, and it's shaping up to be the best year I've ever had."

Brandon didn't say anything for a few moments. "I'm sorry I'm not there. When the earthquake first started, you guys were all I could think about. I started off on foot to get downtown from the Civic Center, but then I ran into some people that were trapped. I couldn't just walk by, and it all sort of snow-balled from there. I didn't mean to get so caught up in the rescue effort."

A knock at the door had Mike turning his head. "Hold on a second, dude," he told Brandon, then called toward the hall. "Come in!"

Greg peeked into the room, and Michelangelo waved at him to come in the rest of the way.

"Just a minute, Heff, your roomie finally got around to calling me," Mike told him, and put the phone back to his ear. "Bran, you don't need to apologize for helping out with stuff. You're doing the right thing - we don't need you to babysit us. I mean, we want to know that you're okay," Mike added hastily. "But you don't have to take care of us. Those people out there need you more."

"You're still my family."

"Yep...and we're all here. I have no idea where we'll end up next, but someone will eventually let you know."

"Take it easy, would you, Mike? Don't do anything to push yourself. Just get the rest you need, and feel better."

"Get the rest _you_ need, Bran, and be safe," Mike said sternly. "Don't make me come after you."

"And drag me home by my earlobes?"

"Something like that. Hope I see you sooner than later."

"You will, Mikey. I'll be back with you guys before you know it."

Mike clapped the phone shut and gazed at Greg expectantly. "What's up, man?"

"I thought I heard your voice, so I had to make sure you weren't having a conversation with yourself," Greg joked. The man's teasing tone couldn't hide the elation in his eyes, and it had Mike curious.

"What's that look for, Heff?"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's like you're about to burst or something." Mike nodded knowingly as he remembered where he'd seen the look before. "You talked to your _girlfriend_, didn't you?"

"Technically speaking, she isn't my girlfriend."

"I knew it! Donny used to get that _same_ look when he talked to Jen while they were separated. So, what'd Sayuri say, huh? Was she worried about you?"

Greg looked like he was trying not to smile, but he was unsuccessful. "Sayuri said something about flying out to track me down herself. I don't know _where_ she'd get an idea like that one."

"Nah, me either, Heff." Mike grinned, loving how embarrassed the man suddenly looked. "Sounds like she's pretty into you."

"I don't know, Mike. I mean, we're definitely closer than we've ever been. I was kind of hoping it would have progressed more than this by now, but then, we haven't _seen_ each other since January, unless you're counting Skype."

"Aren't you supposed to be going to Okinawa in a couple of months here?"

Greg shrugged. "Things are a little bit up in the air right now, Mike. I'm just trying to take one day at a time, and hoping that we all make it through."


	28. Insecure

The light rain provided an almost soothing backdrop to the chaos of the world outside. At the same time, the drops tapping against the windows were also a consistent reminder to Raphael of the vulnerable position in which the small group of refugees were trapped.

The red-masked turtle was seated on the soft carpet by the end of the couch, watching his daughter explore everything new to discover in the apartment. Raphael was doing his best to revel in the distraction that she provided from their unsettling circumstances. Olivia was finding plenty of things to get into, and acting as a major source of exercise as he continually had to get up to stop her from hurting herself or something else.

He had only just finished pulling Olivia off the shelf of a small side table upon which she was insisting on perching, and she squawked in protest as he carried her back to the living room. April gave him a sympathetic look as she entered from the kitchen. The woman was carrying a large plastic bowl in one hand, and a set of measuring spoons in the other.

"I don't have many things to entertain a baby around here, Raph, but see what she'll do with these."

"I think she'd be perfectly happy to destroy the place if I let her," he said tongue-in-cheek.

"That's no way to thank Auntie April." Karina's voice called from the hall, before she joined them in the living room. "What's my _angelito_ getting into now?"

Raphael turned his head to glance at Olivia as the little turtle swung the measuring spoons around so accurately that she almost hit the bowl on her first try.

"Dadada..."

Raphael grinned as Olivia stared at him, almost like she was seeking his approval. He tapped his hand across the bowl to produce a sound that would encourage her to try hitting it again. He had to jerk his hand out of the way as the spoons came down with a _bang_. Olivia squealed and repeated the motion, as if she'd discovered her new favorite toy.

Raphael shook his head at her. "Boy, it doesn't take much to satisfy 'em sometimes, does it? Forget about all the fancy toys. What we really need is more Tupperware."

"I'll get right on that." April smirked as she walked out of the room.

Karina chuckled as she crossed around the front of the couch, and drew her legs up on the cushion underneath her. Raphael focused an appreciative gaze on the woman for a few seconds, admiring the muscles in her legs before shifting to take in the rest of her figure. Karina's burnished hair was pulled back mostly from her face so that only a few wispy strands fell across her cheek.

The woman's light green eyes appeared uncertain at first, but she relaxed into an inviting look when he grinned. Raphael rose under an irresistible urge, and smoothed dark hair off her face before leaning in to kiss her. The feeling of her fingers playing across the back of his neck sent a chill down his spine, and he barely repressed the need to shiver. Karina settled against his plastron, pillowing her head on his shoulder. Her eyes lingered on Olivia for an instant before she gave Raphael a bittersweet smile.

The red-masked turtle considered her expression for a moment, questioning inwardly whether or not he should pursue it. There were plenty of reasons for Karina to be upset, not the least of which was that their home had been turned upside down, and no one knew when or if they would be able to return. There was something besides sadness in her eyes, though; a flash of insecurity that had passed so quickly he might have missed it if he wasn't paying attention.

"Kari?" he asked softly, as he kept half an eye on the baby at their feet. "What's going on?"

"With what, Raph?"

"With _you_." He clasped a hand over hers.

Karina didn't say anything for a long moment. "It's nothing, Raph," she said finally. "A lot of things are happening really quickly, and I'm trying to keep up."

"C'mon, Kari." He kept his tone low. "That ain't all there is to it. Why did you just look at me like that?"

The Latin woman sighed noisily. "Please don't read into it. I'm feeling a little bit silly, Raph."

Raphael cocked his head curiously. "Why?"

Karina met his gaze. "I don't think...I'm not as strong as I wish I was," she answered haltingly.

"What are you talking about, Chica? You're plenty strong. Our little girl down there proves that if nothing else."

"Why, because I _survived_ the pregnancy?" Karina snorted.

"Kari, where is this coming from? I know there has to be some reason you're feeling this way."

Karina withdrew partially from his plastron, and the absence of her body heat made him feel colder inside and out. "It's just...I'm practically the old lady of the group, and I feel a little worthless sometimes."

Raphael's brow furrowed with confusion. "You aren't worthless." A trace of frustration made it through with the proclamation. "How can you say something like that?"

Karina hesitated. "I see the growth in others, I see the way that...Raph, I told you this was silly, didn't I? Can we drop it?"

"No way we're gonna drop it," he said stubbornly. "What's this really about?"

Karina bent down to retrieve Olivia, who had just started pulling herself up on the couch.

"I'm not going anywhere, Kari. Tell me."

"It's Calley," she admitted. "She was so amazing through the whole quake experience. She knew exactly what to do, and she kept _me_ from panicking. Raph, she bluffed four idiots into walking away from easy prey."

"How does Calley knowing what to do translate into you being worthless?"

"She's changed and expanded so much since she joined the family, Raph. Calley has tapped into all of the potential that she already had underneath."

"And she needed help to do it, didn't she?" Raphael reminded her.

"No one can deny that. Leonardo has been by her side since-"

"I ain't just talking about Fearless, Kari. You and Jen have been there for her too, and even Becky. Calley's an amazing woman, but she's also been _surrounded_ by amazing people, who've been there for her every step of the way. You trained her, Kari, you helped her get into shape again. You got her back into the dancing world."

Karina shook her head. "What Calley has is something that I couldn't teach her, or even hope to attain myself."

"Shell, Chica, don't you get it?" Raphael managed to keep his voice down, though he was fighting irritation tooth and nail. "This isn't about Calley, _or_ you. It's about all of us. Sensei used to say that a team operates kind of like a body. Every single part is important, even though they do different things. Being a team means that everyone matters, and no one is worthless._ No one _has it all together, and that's okay, because we complete each other. Am I making any sense to you?"

Karina nodded, but that wasn't enough of a response for Raphael.

"You ain't got nothing to prove here, Kari. You've been strong-willed right from the get-go, when you defended yourself from big, bad Mikey with the fireplace poker."

That earned him a chuckle at least.

"What was I supposed to do? He shocked the heck out of me showing up like that!"

"There are a lot of things you could have done, but standing your ground to fight is what separates you from a lot of other people. Some of them just faint." He grinned.

"You'll never let Greg hear the end of that, will you?" Karina rested against his chest again, cuddling Olivia closer in her arms.

"I'm never going to let _you_ hear the end of it if you don't accept how great you are," he said evenly. "I don't want to hear any of that worthless talk again - do you understand me?"

Karina locked eyes with him, communicating a message of silent gratitude before turning her head to kiss him. The red-masked turtle could feel himself starting to get lost in the warmth of her lips, but a knock at the door promptly made him crash back down to Earth. Instinct had him nearly leaping over the back of the couch before the correct _coded_ knock was repeated.

Raphael released the breath that had been captured in his chest as Karina handed him Olivia, and got up to answer the door. Both hands went to her hips as she let Greg inside.

"Way to almost give us a heart attack," she chided. "Could you maybe use the right knock to _start_ with next time?"

Greg shuffled into the room sheepishly. "Sorry - I wasn't thinking straight. Where is everyone?"

"My brothers didn't get much sleep last night," Raphael grumbled, his amber gaze flicking down the hall. "Jen and Calley are out foraging for food, and the others are resting."

"Foraging. You make it sound like a jungle out there," Greg remarked.

Raphael opened his mouth to respond, but his sound was cut short by a tremor that rumbled underneath them. He felt Olivia stiffen in his arms, and immediately covered her protectively as he leaped to his feet. He wasn't sure what to do when he got his legs underneath him, except hold on to his daughter and not let go. The temptation to panic still existed, even though they'd already been through several small aftershocks.

This tremor wasn't ending as quickly as he expected. When he saw furniture shifting, he stretched one hand toward Karina.

"Look out, you guys!" His sharp warning came seconds before the bookshelf tilted forward, and crashed to the floor.

Karina backed against the turtle, and he withdrew one arm from Olivia so that he could gather his wife in too. He could feel the woman's heart racing in her chest and saw that every ounce of color had left her face. Raphael caught himself still breathing a little hard as the rumbling faded out of earshot, and he became aware of the fact that Olivia was crying.

After a couple of motionless seconds he released the death grip he had on Karina, and bounced Olivia soothingly at his side. "It's okay, baby girl, its over. It's finished," he reassured her.

Karina exhaled deeply. "I don't know if my nerves can take much more," she murmured. "Want me to hold Liv, Raph? You could check on your brothers."

Raphael handed the baby to her, and caught Greg's eye as the man made a move toward the hall too. April came flying out of the kitchen before they made it another two steps.

"Is everyone okay?" She sounded breathless.

"I think your shelf might have bitten the dust, but we're all fine," Raphael replied. "We were gonna check-"

Before he could finish, doors were already opening down the hall. A bleary-eyed Michelangelo met Raphael first, with Rebecca hovering closely behind him.

"That felt a little intense." The orange-masked turtle shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "Are we sure that was an aftershock?"

"Some of them can be bigger than others," Donatello mentioned from behind them. "Occasionally an aftershock is stronger than the original quake."

"Thanks, Genius, we all needed to know that," Raphael offered sarcastically.

"Everyone all right?" Leonardo called briskly as he emerged into the living room behind the others.

Raphael noticed the way the blue-masked turtle's eyes lingered longer on Michelangelo as he gazed around the room, but decided to try and ignore it.

Marcus rubbed sleep out of his eyes as he brought up the rear of the group. "So much for sleeping," the man complained.

Raphael felt himself drawn back to Michelangelo. His youngest brother wasn't even standing up straight. The red-masked turtle continued to watch him as Mike sagged down onto the couch, and his head flopped against the cushions. Raphael shot Donatello a questioning glance, and the purple-masked turtle shook his head.

_Shell, this can't be good. Mikey looks awful. I just don't get it. The night before last Mike's telling me he thinks he's over the worst of it, and now it looks like he's coming down with this stuff even harder. He doesn't need this._

The root of worry that had never completely left his chest was beginning to grow again. Raphael noticed that Donatello was fingering his phone, and the purple-masked turtle avoided looking at anyone else. Raphael couldn't even get Leonardo to meet his gaze now.

_Dang. What did I miss last night?_


	29. Aftershock

Luke shifted miserably as he tried to find a new position that wasn't painful in which to lie. The spasms that raced through his muscles made it difficult to stay on his back for any length of time, but he didn't feel much better on his side. He wanted out of the Triage Unit - he _wanted_ to go home.

_But home isn't there, _he thought morosely. _Dang, where are we supposed to go from here? What are the_ guys _going to do? They can't stay on the surface forever. _Thinking about all the answers he didn't have was making his head hurt worse, and he closed his eyes with a grimace.

"Do you need something else for pain?" Katherine asked.

He turned his head to see the woman. "No. I need to get out of here."

"Luke, I know you haven't had any more of those symptoms from a couple days ago, but be honest with yourself. If you were your own doctor, would you release you?"

The blond man smiled. "Are you _trying_ to confuse me?" Luke exhaled deeply before continuing. "It's not a life threatening matter, Kat; it's all about my comfort level. I'm not certain how far I could walk with my back in this condition. At the same time, I really want to catch up with the others."

"You know they're all right, don't you?" she asked. "None of the guys were injured in that quake. They're probably feeling extremely exposed up in Marc and April's apartment, but it's better than being out in broad daylight where they started."

Luke nodded, and wished he hadn't. He'd refused to take more than small doses of the particular pain killer they were prescribing, because it had the effect of making him too drowsy. "I can't explain it, Kat. I just need to be with them."

The woman smiled. "It's not possible you're experiencing your normal brand of overprotectiveness, is it?"

Luke rested one hand behind his head, fingering the bandage that was covering his stitches. "I'm unsettled, Kat. I don't feel like the danger is truly past." The aftershock that had occurred close to noon had disturbed his peace, but Luke had been concerned long before the tremor. "We need to figure out what we're going to do with the guys."

"Do with them?"

"Yeah, Kat. They can't go back underground for now - it isn't safe. It probably won't be for...well, I don't know how long. In the meantime, they can't just hang out in someone's apartment. You said it yourself; they're exposed. And what are they supposed to do about Olivia? She's only a baby. She doesn't understand how dangerous it is to be seen or heard by outsiders."

"Should we be looking into finding a house?"

Luke resisted the urge to shake his head. "Shelter isn't the only issue we're facing. We have to consider their medical needs, and the fact that we have no equipment left, and very little medicine. Building something like Donny's Lab from scratch could take months alone, and we never even finished what we were doing with Mike."

"What _were_ you doing with him?"

"We're still trying to locate the root of his chronic breathing issues. There's a possibility that it's related to a recurring infection because of his white blood cell count being so low, but there are other things we need to look into as well."

Katherine stared at him probingly for a couple of seconds. "Didn't you mention something about a biopsy?"

"Just as a precaution, to rule out something else." Luke was quick to try and soothe her.

Katherine had been uncomfortable ever since he'd first mentioned the procedure to her, and he'd been careful not to bring it up again.

_Her Mom died from cancer. Of course she's a little sensitive to the issue._

"Do you think you can get up?" Katherine asked.

"I won't know unless I try, will I? Can you stand by if I need help please?" Luke slowly eased his legs over the side of the bed, and inched up into a sitting position.

"You okay?" Katherine hovered beside him, prepared to pounce at a second's notice.

"So far. This is a good start, I think. Let me sit here for a minute, and make sure I have my balance."

"Are you in pain?"

"Some, yeah," he acknowledged. "But it isn't_ that _bad."

"Are you sure moving isn't going to make it a lot worse?"

"No," he said honestly. "But the doctor I talked to thinks I only tore some tendons in my lower back. I haven't had an MRI, so it's hard to say for sure."

"I don't want you to do this," she insisted. "Not until we have some assurance that you aren't going to permanently injure yourself in the process. We have to wait for you to get transferred to a hospital where they can do the scan...or Marcus could check, right?"

Luke smiled hopefully. "The technology on Donny's scanner would be sufficient for Marc to see the damage."

"Then I'll try to reach him again, but _you_ need to lie back down."

Shifting back onto the mattress proved to be more difficult than rising had been. Luke clenched his teeth in pain as he fought to straighten out his back, and Kat moved to help him. He sighed softly as she stroked his cheek.

"You're going to have to take it slower," she said.

"I guess."

Katherine drew the thin blanket back over him before she sat down herself. The woman cast a glance at Reina asleep on the small air mattress, before she looked at him. "You never told me what happened with the earthquake. You _started_ to, but we got sidetracked."

"There are things I don't remember, Kat," he replied. "I know where Reina and I were, and I remember why. As far as the quake goes, I don't recall even feeling the tremor, though I'm sure I must have. I have this vague picture in my head of people running around on the streets, and being caught up in the middle of it. I remember smelling the strongest scent of natural gas that I've ever encountered, and being physically lifted off my feet by an explosion.

"I know I held on to Reina initially, but everything gets fuzzy after that. I know that there was smoke and there were sirens. I heard people screaming and crying, and I thought I could hear Reina among them. I tried to move, and I couldn't. I couldn't _see_ Reina, or anyone else. I felt like I was on the verge of panicking.

"That was when someone started talking to me. They wanted me to respond to them, but I couldn't. It was like being caught in this dream-like state where I was partially aware of everything going on, but I couldn't do anything about it. I don't remember anyone saving me, or passing out. But when I woke up, I was here in Triage, and I didn't even realize there had been an earthquake."

Katherine's hand lightly gripped his arm. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Luke gave her a wry smile. "You're here _now_. Just promise me you're not going to abandon me to these people. They already tried to kill me off once."

* * *

><p>Brandon was worn out; it had been a long day of moving debris and sifting through rubble. The hard work of the last 72 hours was finally beginning to take a physical toll on him. He was relieved to see night falling, and immediately considered calling Greg to come and get him.<p>

_It would be nice to meet up with the others. I think I've played the lone wolf for long enough._

He'd returned to the Civic Center to pick up his things, and it only made sense to get something to eat while he was there. While waiting in a long line, Brandon was irritated to discover the difficulty he was having in getting a signal on his cell. The woman in front of him noticed his battle with the phone, and she shook her head sympathetically.

"That aftershock earlier today damaged a couple of the closest towers," she explained. "They're working on them."

Brandon barely contained an eye-roll. _Great. Just what I needed. I guess if I hike far enough out of this neighborhood, I'll be able to pick up a signal again. That or I need to figure out how to turn the booster back on._

After the original quake he'd taken to experimenting with the phone to see if he could switch it to the satellite feed, and only succeeded in messing up the normal settings. After the towers had been restored he'd been able to place a couple of calls _without_ the help of Donny's booster, but his current predicament was leaving him high and dry.

_I suppose I can take a walk after I get some food down. I need a break first._

As he was grabbing his tray, Brandon noticed a familiar face that made him stop in his tracks. The Director of the FBI was standing up near the counter, simultaneously chatting with someone and scanning the room. Matthew Kelley had always struck Brandon as a rather imposing individual. Kelley was easily one of the tallest men he'd ever seen, and he had a booming voice that made it seem like he was yelling, even during an everyday conversation.

_He's been nothing but friendly to me ever since I started training their field operatives, but he still makes me really nervous. I never know how much he honestly sees. Kelley was so suspicious after we came back from that mission with the Akiudo in Okinawa. I like the job, and I know Greg doesn't want to quit…but I feel like I'm constantly walking on eggshells around that man._

Brandon swallowed as Kelley made eye contact, and the man headed directly for him. "Director. I didn't expect to see you here."

Kelley grinned and thumped him heartily on the back. Brandon resisted the urge to wince from the pain that lit through his shoulders under his boss's heavy arm. The toll of the physical labor felt like it was hitting his arms the worst.

"How are you doing, Brandon? Getting something to eat? You've been working hard, I wager."

Brandon nodded. "It's been a long day...a long _three _days. I'm ready to get out of here."

"You and me both, James." Kelley shook his head. "You mind some company while you eat?"

"No, feel free to join me." Brandon forced a relaxed smile. "Have you been in contact with your family?"

"Talked to the wife this morning, before that little mini-quake sent things out of whack again. I'm planning on hitting the road pretty soon myself. What about your sisters, have you heard from them?"

"I talked to Kat last night. She's staying in Triage with Luke until he can get transferred to a hospital."

"And their little girl?"

"Reina's doing okay. Kat experienced a bad scare with both of them, but she says Luke is stable, and she hasn't let the baby out of her sight."

"I wouldn't either. I can still remember when _my_ girl was that small. I can't call her 'little' to her face anymore."

"Too grown-up?"

"She's a teenager. According to her, 'little girl' doesn't apply anymore."

"How old again?"

"Fifteen."

Brandon groaned. "All the best of luck to you, Sir."

Matthew chuckled as he thumped him on the back a second time. "I hear you saved some lives over the last couple of days, Brandon."

He shrugged. "I was in the right place to help, and it was one of those situations you don't walk away from. This stuff hasn't been easy, but someone has to do it, right?"

Kelley nodded gravely, a somber expression taking over his features. "You've been doing good work, James, but it's time you got out of here for a while."

"And it's time you saw your family," Brandon returned.

"Judging from my wife's tone on the phone this morning, its _past_ time."

Brandon began concentrating more on eating, and let Kelley do the majority of the talking. He tried to nod occasionally and insert comments at the appropriate places, but he wasn't completely focused on his boss. The large man was intensely describing the latest of his son's college exploits in Michigan, and it was becoming more difficult to fake paying attention.

He stifled a yawn with effort._ I'm not looking forward to walking a couple of miles, but it has to be done._

"Well...I think I ought to get moving, since I have a ways to go," Bran said dismissively.

"You don't have a vehicle out here, do you, James? You and Heffernan usually carpool."

"I'm going to call him to come get me; I just have to walk to find a signal first."

"Why don't you let me drop you, Brandon?"

"I don't want you to go out of your way for me, Sir, not with the conditions of the streets."

"Nonsense - you've been pouring yourself into this rescue effort. The least someone can do is give you a ride. How about it?"

_Being trapped in a car with him doesn't sound appealing, but it would definitely get me there faster...I think the trade-off is worth it._

"If you insist..." Brandon faltered.

"I do. I just need to make another trip up into the Federal Building to get a couple of things from my office. You can wait down here if you like."

Brandon shook his head. "I need to pick up my stuff too."

"Are you finished eating?"

Brandon pushed back from the table and dropped the meager remnants of his food into the trash before following Kelley out of the crowded room. The number of people waiting for an elevator in the lobby was slightly disconcerting.

"Y'know, if we went up a couple of flights, we could probably avoid some of this mess," Kelley said in an uncharacteristically low tone. "What do you say, Brandon, are you up for it?"

He nodded. "Better than standing around for the next fifteen minutes."

The two men ducked through a nearby door into a cavernous stairwell. Brandon established a good grip on the railing, and began climbing at a steady pace. Kelley kept up with him easily, and Brandon caught himself grinning surreptitiously.

_He goes on and on about getting old, but he's in better shape than a lot of these trainees who walk in off the street. Kelley's really not a bad guy, just a bit...overbearing._

"I appreciate your help," Brandon mentioned.

"It's nothing, James, don't mention it. Its times like this you gotta help other people. That's_ all _you've been doing."

As Brandon turned his head to respond to his boss, he felt a distinct shudder under his feet that he instantly recognized.

"Director!" he called, as he threw his other arm over the banister to steady himself.

Kelley stopped behind him, latching onto the railing as the rumbling increased in volume. When it felt like the tremor was gathering strength, Brandon crouched down lower on the stairs to help center his balance. His heart rate sped up as he fought to keep both arms over the banister, and he gasped out loud when it felt like the solid surface under his feet was crumbling.

Brandon ducked his head closer to his chest protect himself from objects that were littering down from above. He heard a chunk of concrete strike nearby on his right side, just before sudden pain exploded in the side of his head. It hardly had a chance to register before the stairwell disappeared from his sight.


	30. Dilemma

Sharp pain pulled Brandon back to reality. The surface on which he was lying felt hard and uneven. He considered trying to sit up, but the sensations running between his right shoulder and his chest were bad enough when he _wasn't_ trying to move. With determination he forced his eyelids to flicker, and confusion wracked his mind. Brandon had no idea where he was, or how he'd gotten there. He felt vaguely as if he was trapped inside a dark hole through which the faint overhead lighting barely penetrated. His head was throbbing under the material that had been firmly bound around it, and Brandon could tell that he'd been bleeding.

"James?" A tight voice spoke.

"Where's Kat?" Brandon murmured groggily, immediately thinking of his sister when he heard the nickname.

"Brandon," his companion said firmly. "Talk to me. Give me some sign you're in there."

Brandon squinted at the shadowed figure beside him, and the pieces of the puzzle began to assemble. "Director. Where _are_ we?"

"Close to the ground floor of the Civic Center, I imagine. I'm only guessing, mind you. Are you all right, Brandon? Can you feel everything?"

"I feel plenty, and I don't like most of it," he mumbled.

"Do you want some help sitting up?"

Brandon gasped in pain as his boss tried to support him under his arms. "_Wait_," he said breathlessly. "That hurts."

"Sorry, Brandon. My hands are off."

Brandon clenched his eyes shut as he took a deep breath and opened them again. "It was another aftershock, wasn't it?"

"I don't know what else it could have been. I hate to think about what could have happened to that elevator the way the _stairs _gave out under us."

Brandon groaned quietly as he propped himself up on his good arm to look around. "Are we...we're trapped, aren't we? Is there a way out?"

Matthew rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Not that I can tell, James. I was a bit dazed for a while too, then I searched our immediate area. There's a lot of rubble, and not much else. I don't know how much of the building actually survived."

_Please stop while you're ahead_, he pleaded inwardly. _Let me live under the illusion that we've got some kind of hope._ Brandon grunted as he struggled into a sitting position. "We're not just going to lie down and die, are we?"

"I'd rather not, James, but I think we're probably stuck until someone comes for us."

"We can't wait for them," Brandon said doggedly. He swallowed deeply as he heard the sound of raining debris striking the floor. "Things are still coming down? For all we know, the whole building might be ready to collapse on us. We have to find a way out!"

"I'm all _for _escaping, Brandon. I'm just telling you I couldn't find a way through. The only thing I can figure is to go straight up. I don't know about you, but I don't have a tow-cable in my back pocket."

_Me neither, but I know some guys who do. _

Brandon worked his way onto to his knees, and Matthew was waiting to steady him as he got to his feet. He stumbled as he rested weight on his ankles, and Kelley supported him as carefully as he could. Brandon peered at his boss closely. The dark abrasions stood out like a sore thumb on Kelley's forehead, telling the story of his boss's fall.

"Are you hurt badly, Sir?"

Kelley shook his head. "I don't think so. I knocked my head and I've got some pain in my side, but nothing I can't handle. You were like a rag-doll when we hit - I'm surprised you can move at all. I was worried you could have broken your neck."

"Close, but no cigar," Brandon said ruefully.

Brandon's gaze shifted to take a deeper look at the "hole" in which they were sitting. He took a couple of faltering steps, tracing his hand over the first obstacle he encountered. He pressed his good arm against the rock experimentally, but it wasn't budging. He followed along the edge of the debris line, traveling half the radius of the obstacle until he found a portion he thought he might be able to climb over.

Using one arm would make it much more difficult, but he'd never been a quitter, and he wasn't going to start now. Brandon slowly scaled a couple of feet through the concrete and metal, pausing his advance when a flash of pain in his chest nearly blinded him.

"I've been this way, Brandon!" Kelley called urgently. "I'm telling you - you won't get through!"

He didn't want to take his word for it. Brandon stubbornly climbed further, determined to keep pushing weakened limbs further than it felt like they should be able to go. Brandon hadn't even made it half-way when tremors overtook him, and he nearly collapsed face down.

He struggled to hold onto something solid with his usable arm, to keep himself from stumbling backwards. Brandon teetered unsteadily while he tried to get a better look around at their surroundings from where he was.

_Kelley must be right. _Brandon sighed heavily. _There's no obvious way out of this hole except straight up._

Brandon swore as the enormity of their predicament washed over him, and he suddenly felt dizzier. It seemed like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. His tilting equilibrium made him feel like he could pass out at any moment, but if he tried to climb down or let go of the concrete, he was _certain _he'd fall. Brandon heard something shifting on the pile behind him, and he looked down to see Kelley climbing.

Matthew's arms circled around his waist. "C'mon, Brandon. Let's get down before you hit you hit your head again."

He didn't fight Kelley's grip; he was actually grateful that the man had come to retrieve him. When Brandon was safely on the floor, his gaze traveled back up through the ruined levels above them, focusing on the emergency lights that were far out of reach.

_It doesn't get much more helpless than this, does it? We're trapped here, unless someone miraculously discovers us before the roof caves in. I wonder how long we actually have before that could happen._

"I'm sorry we're stuck, James," Kelley said hoarsely.

Brandon glanced at him in confusion. "How is this your fault, Sir?"

"It's not about fault, Son. I _want_ to try and stay positive, but if we don't get out, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. There's a lot more life left for you to experience," he added wistfully.

Brandon stared at the man as if he'd sprouted a second head. "We're not dead, Sir, and I'd rather not talk like that yet."

Matthew massaged his temples as if he were in pain. "I shouldn't have been here. My wife asked me to come home this morning, and I didn't do it. 'Give me one more day', I said. 'It looks better for someone like me to be close to the action', I said. I was only thinking about appearances. It wasn't even about helping anyone else, or taking care of my family. Just my stupid pride. I never deserved Ellen to start with - she was always too good for me. I wouldn't feel so bad if it was only _me _stranded down here."

Brandon's mind was spinning again, but not because he was dizzy. The images of framed photographs from Kelley's office were running through his head. The smiling teenage girl, the young man in his cap and gown, and the image of the entire family laughing with mouths open wide.

_Kelley is talking like we're not getting out. He already thinks it's probably over for us. Rescuers _could _still reach us in time, but he's right. We don't know how badly the rest of the building was damaged._ Brandon looked up as a falling glass just missed his arm. _Or how long the ceiling is going to stay above us._

Brandon stared at the watch on his right wrist. The timepiece was unscathed. The display lit up when he hit the button to illuminate it, and his left hand hovered over the wristband as he considered the panic button.

_I have another option, of course, but I don't know if I should use it. The guys would come in a heartbeat, but it would mean possibly exposing them to a lot of people, not to mention the danger the building proposes. I'm not sure if I should do this. I don't know if it's _worth_ that. _Brandon's gaze returned to Kelley, and he watched his boss rock back and forth. _I could probably save both of our lives, and all I have to do is hit this button. I could also be condemning the guys to death or discovery in some futile attempt to save us. I don't want to risk it, not just so _I _can get out._

But the thought of Kelley's family and his _own_ loved ones wouldn't be pushed aside so easily. _If it was someone else trapped in here I would kill them for holding back, but it feels different to be on this side. The pressure is unbelievable. _

He lowered his head into his hands and breathed in and out painfully. _The idea of someone like Kelley seeing the guys is terrifying. _Brandon shivered at the thought. _He could end up being more dangerous to them than any of the enemies they've ever faced._

"Brandon?" Kelley spoke, almost as if he knew what he was thinking. "I'm sorry for talking that way. There's still hope for us, right? As long as we're alive and kicking, there's no reason to give up."

Brandon warred with guilt while he nodded. _So do I intentionally let someone else die because I don't trust him with the biggest secret of our lives? I don't know if I could live with myself for that...not that I'd have to, _he added bleakly.

"Say something, will you?" Kelley pleaded. "You're worrying me, James. Are you still with me?"

"I'm here," Brandon acknowledged. "I'm just thinking...trying to figure something out."

"You're really close with your family, aren't you, Brandon?"

"Just with my sisters," he said quietly. "They're all that's left of my _real _family. Moving to New York is the best thing I could have done. I've gotten more out of it than I ever imagined I could."

"Like what, James? Keep talking to me."

_He's afraid of my head injury, _Brandon realized. "Well, there's Luke and Reina...and I have some incredible friends who have become like brothers to me."

"Yeah, there's Greg too, huh? What about your other sister, Karina? Wasn't she pregnant awhile back?"

The question stopped Brandon cold. "She was...I...you saw Karina?"

"Several months ago, it must have been close to a year. Ran across her at a gas station, of all places. She must have had the kid by now."

Brandon held his breath. "Yes, she did."

"So you've got another niece or nephew?"

"Niece," he replied automatically.

"Is she healthy? Two nieces, huh? I bet they'll enjoy each other."

_He's really trying to keep me talking. _"The babies are perfect, and my sisters are great. They've never been better." _Wish I was with them right now._

"I'm glad for Katherine that she found happiness with Luke and has started her own family. There's nothing more important than that, Brandon. You might enjoy being a bachelor, but there's so much more waiting for you. Holding the woman you love, picking up your little girl, watching your kids grow up before your eyes...Promise me you'll keep looking for a woman like that, James. No matter how much trouble they might feel like, I'm telling you, the right girl is worth it."

Brandon's eyes landed on his watch again. _The guys deserve the chance to make their own decision about whether we can be saved or not...and Kelley deserves a chance to live._

Before he could talk himself out of it, he depressed the panic button.


	31. Alert

When the vibration signaled across his wrist, Donatello bolted upright from the tense position in wich he was resting on the couch.

"Did something bite you?" Jenna laughed.

He didn't answer her - he was too busy flipping through the main menu on the small display of the timepiece. _Brandon_. "Shell. Shell, shell!"

The powerful aftershock that had occurred a few minutes prior had rattled everyone, but Donatello still hadn't expected this.

"Don, what is it?" Jenna demanded.

"It's Brandon. He just set off his beacon!" Donatello was on his feet and calling for his brothers before the raven-haired woman could speak.

Leonardo swung in through an open window from the fire escape, and landed on the carpet without making a sound. The blue-masked turtle was slightly damp from the rain that had been falling intermittently while he'd been on the roof, and his dark eyes were wide with concern. "Who set it off, Don?"

Leonardo was the only brother that Donatello could convince to wear the watch on a regular basis, even when they weren't in immediate danger.

"Brandon," Donatello said shortly. "I hate to think the quake had something to do with it, but I don't know what else it could be. He wouldn't set it off unless he had to."

"What about Brandon?" Raphael joined their conversation from the hall. "Did you hear from him?"

"No, Raph, he set off his alarm!" Donatello returned.

"And he's not answering his phone," Jenna added as she lowered her device. "I don't think the call is even making it through."

"Can you start trying to raise Greg, Jen?" Donny requested, just as April came into the room.

The redhead took one look at his expression, and stopped in her tracks. "Its bad news, isn't it? Have you heard anything? What do we know?"

"Nothing, yet," he replied, as he went to yank his laptop out of his duffle bag.

While Donatello booted up the computer on the coffee table he felt several pairs of eyes watching him, and instinctively knew that the others had joined them as well.

"Where is he, Genius?" Raphael was in typical impatient form.

"I don't know yet. I need a couple of minutes for the software to load so I can triangulate his location from his homing device."

Donatello could hear his red-masked brother pacing, and tried to ignore the sound as he began tracking Brandon's coordinates. When he looked over his shoulder, he found Calley and Karina staring at him mutely, waiting.

"Where's my brother, Donny?" Karina asked after a couple more beats of silence.

"The Javits Federal Building. April, what did you do with that radio? The stations might have some information about the damage from that last quake. We're probably going to need to find out the best way around traffic."

April dashed out of the room, right before the last two figures in the apartment made their way inside. Michelangelo's blue eyes roved across the space, his confusion evident.

"Are we going somewhere?" he asked.

"_We_ are - you're not," Donny replied. "Sorry Mike. With the condition your lungs are in, I can't even consider allowing you to take part in a rescue."

"Rescue who?" The orange-masked turtle's voice surged to life. "Is this how it's going to be? You guys decide, and I don't even get a vote?"

"No one wants to leave you out in the cold, Mike, but Don's right," Leonardo said smoothly. His questioning gaze turned to Donatello. "Do you think this is going to be a full scale operation?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Leo. We won't know what's actually wrong until we get there, unless we can contact Brandon-"

"Brandon's in trouble?" Michelangelo's brow furrowed and he glanced down at his wrist where his watch _should_ have been.

"Yes, Mike, he is. Jenna, are you still trying to reach Greg?"

The man had gone back out to the makeshift Triage center where Luke was still being "held" to visit with the doctor and Katherine. Donatello remembered Greg saying something about picking Brandon up sometime before he came back to the apartment.

"It rings, but then I'm getting a busy signal!"

"Then stop dialing - he's probably trying to reach _us_."

As if on cue, Donatello's phone vibrated on the coffee table, and he hurriedly snatched it up. "Heff?"

"Where is he?" Greg sounded completely out of breath. "Where is Bran, Don, I need to know_ now_!"

"He's still at Javits."

Greg swore fiercely on the other end of the phone. "I knew he set the watch off for a reason! I was hoping he'd already left the building, that all he needed was a ride-" The man interrupted himself to swear a second time.

Donatello cleared his throat. "Heff, do you know something that we don't?"

He heard Greg take an anxious breath. "They have a couple of different radio stations broadcasting here at Triage. The Civic Center took a _worse_ hit with this aftershock than it did in the original quake! Brandon could be trapped, Don, we have to get down there!"

"You took the words out of my mouth, Greg. How soon can you get here?"

"It's going to take a few minutes, and Kat isn't going to let me escape with giving her some kind of information."

"Just move, Heff! We can't go anywhere until you get here!" Nerves skyrocketed through his whole body as he hung up the phone.

"What did he say, Donny?" Raphael asked immediately. "Does he know something about the building?"

The purple-masked turtle hesitated. "The radio is saying the Civic Center took a worse hit. We have to get prepared for the destruction we might be dealing with."

"Well...at least it won't be the first time," Leonardo said quietly. "Don, do you still think you can use the scanner to help us avoid hot spots?"

Donatello nodded with a frown. "But we don't have any tools like we used for the United Nations."

"We'll have to make do without them," Leonardo said determinedly.

"The debris field could be completely different," Donatello said thoughtfully. "We may be dealing with more of an implosion effect than an explosion."

"There's a difference?" Raphael wanted to know.

"Definitely," Donatello murmured distractedly, his eyes still on Leonardo.

The blue-masked turtle gave Karina an encouraging smile. "He was able to set off his panic button - that means he had both mobility and the presence of mind to do so. We're going to get your brother back, Karina."

The woman was already breathing a little rapidly. "Would you bring yourselves back in one piece too?"

Raphael stopped his "caged lion" pacing long enough to wrap both arms around Karina from behind. "Don't be scared, Kari. We know what we're doing, and Donny can steer us clear if there are fires."

"I like how you say _'if'_, like there's some chance there won't be," Karina said dryly.

Jenna threw her shoulders back resolutely. "Take a good look at me, Karina. I was inside the UN when those bombs went off, and I lived to tell about it. A lot of people did. Brandon will be okay too."

Karina nodded uncertainly, and Donatello noticed the way Raphael hadn't let go of her. The entire room stiffened when they heard April cry out from the next room. Donatello strode toward the kitchen, with Leonardo directly on his heels.

"April?" Don queried.

The woman was bent over the counter in front of the radio. When she spun around to meet them, she had tears in her eyes. "A major portion of the Javits high-rise collapsed. The rest of the frame isn't going to hold out indefinitely. They think the whole building could come down at any time. Emergency workers are still heading in, but there's a shortage of hands..." April's voice wavered as she finished.

Donatello shivered at the sense of acute nausea in the pit of his stomach.

"We don't have time to waste," Leonardo said briskly. "Don, Greg is coming, isn't he?"

"That's what he said."

"Then we have to be ready and waiting downstairs when he gets here. Whatever you think could help us in the building, let's get it pulled so we can get down to the street level."

Several expectant faces were waiting when the two turtles emerged from the kitchen.

"The news isn't good," Leonardo volunteered flatly, and looked at Donatello.

"The Javits building suffered major structural failure," Donny explained, and he gazed around the room as the news sunk in.

Raphael had still been supporting Karina, but now he directed her toward the couch as she swayed.

"I don't want to stay behind." Michelangelo was the first to speak. "Brandon is family as much as everyone else. I'm not sitting this out."

Donatello crossed the room to meet his younger brother, and he laid an arm over Mike's shoulder. "Will you be helping Brandon if you end up passing out or not breathing? I'm sorry, Mikey. I don't _want_ to do this to you, but we don't have a choice."

"I'm not an invalid! I didn't slow us down when we were escaping the sewer, did I? Did I cause any problems in the Park to make you think I'm too weak to handle this?"

"No one's calling you weak, Bro," Leonardo said. "But your lung issues aren't under control. You already stopped breathing once in the past couple weeks, and just last night..." He didn't bother finishing the statement. "No, Mike. Not this time."

Michelangelo turned a pleading gaze on Donatello that made the purple-masked turtle feel like his heart was breaking in two. "You can't just leave me here, Don. You _can't_."

"Mike, listen to me. We're coming back, okay?"

The orange-masked turtle blinked back a couple of tears. "Let me ride with you at least."

"Forget it, Chucklehead," Raphael said firmly. "Knowing you, you'd find a way to worm yourself into that building, and it's not happening. You gotta trust us, Mikey. We've always come back before, and this time will be no different."

Donatello was so tense he almost jerked away from Jenna when her fingers glided onto his wrist. He'd been completely wrapped up in Michelangelo, and hadn't noticed when the woman came to his side. The expression in her light blue eyes was just as pleading as Michelangelo's had been. As she bent toward him, he lightly kissed her forehead.

"We need to get to work," Leonardo said decisively.

Donatello embraced the woman for a quick moment before letting her go, and gave Mike a parting glance. "We'll find him, Mike, and we'll be careful."

"Yeah, you'd better be," he grumbled in return. "If I have to come in there after you, I'll never let any of you live it down."

* * *

><p>Brandon's hand felt around the back of his cell-phone, as he tried to get his battery into the slot correctly.<p>

_Geesh, it fit to start with, there's no way the battery is too large to get in there. I just hope that little move will correct whatever the heck I did to the phone._

After a couple more seconds of fiddling the thin battery slid into place properly, and he exhaled softly.

_That's more like it. Now, let's see who-_

"What are you doing to your phone, James?" His Director interrupted the thought.

Brandon looked up. "My device is a lot smarter than I am. It's capable of running off of a satellite feed, but you have to know how to switch it over. It also has an internal booster that helps amplify the signal from the towers. Back after the first quake I did something to mess up my settings. I'm hoping taking the battery out and putting it back in might reset them so I can get the booster working."

"I'd let you use my phone, Brandon, but I couldn't get a signal before the ground crumbled under us, and I think it's even less likely now."

Brandon shook his head. _This really stinks. I wish I was alone down here, for more than the obvious reasons. Did I do the right thing setting off the panic button? I guess it's irrelevant. I'm sure they've already seen it, and they're probably coming after me. _

The thought of Matthew Kelley seeing the turtles in the flesh was as disturbing now as it had been a few minutes ago. _I wonder if they could disguise themselves, and he'd never have to know? How could I prevent him from getting a good look at-_

Brandon's phone rang in his hand, and nearly startled him out of his wits.

Kelley stared at him as if he'd just made contact with an alien colony. "How's that possible?" He gasped.

Brandon didn't reply, jerking the phone open instead. "Hello? Hello?" He repeated the word so fast that the caller couldn't have gotten a word in edgewise.

"Can you hear me, Brandon? It's Donny!"

The man released a shuddering breath. "Thank God! I can't believe all I had to do was remove the battery."

Donatello didn't bother asking what that meant. "Are you okay?"

"Um...yes, and no. I'm not dying, but I'm hurt and trapped..." Brandon hesitated for an instant. "And I'm not alone. Director Kelley is here too."

"Can you tell me anything about where you are?" The turtle didn't seem fazed by his news.

"We were on the stairwell when the quake hit, maybe around the third floor. The ground just caved in under us, Donny. We're stuck inside of...I don't know what, it feels like a giant hole. There's still debris coming down. I'm afraid we could get blocked in completely." Brandon made the statement evenly, though his heart skipped a beat with the admission.

"Bran, we're coming, okay? How badly are you hurt?"

"I don't know. Something hit my head on the way down, and I was unconscious for a couple of minutes, at least. I think I must have landed wrong on my collar bone - I'm pretty sure it's fractured. Listen, Don, this is a huge risk to take. You can think about it. You don't have to do this." Brandon felt Kelley's eyes on him, but ignored the man for the moment.

"You mean because of your _boss_?" Donny sounded incredulous. "Bran, we'll cross that bridge when we get there! We're not leaving you to die just so we can protect our own shells. You'd never do that to us, and you know it!"

"Please be careful," Brandon said hoarsely.

"We will, Brandon. Hang in there, all right? Don't you dare go to sleep or anything."

"I'm too scared to be tired, Don."

"That may not last if you have a concussion. Greg's pulling up, I've gotta go! We'll be on our way shortly!"

Brandon sighed inwardly as he hung up the phone. _I knew they wouldn't back down, darn it. What are we going to do about Kelley?_


	32. All In

Leonardo was having a hard time staying down and out of sight in the back seat of Greg's Jeep. It had been an extremely sobering drive into the neighborhood of the Financial District where the Civic Center was located. Part of him didn't want to see the devastation the earthquake had wrought, but the greater part of him wanted to abandon the slow-moving vehicle altogether and take off running down the middle of the street.

_It'd be nice to get there before the building completely collapses! It's situations like these that make me detest being forced to hide so much._

Donatello had been quiet for almost the entirety of the drive. Leonardo stared at the purple-masked turtle for a long moment, until Don met his gaze. "What are you thinking, Donny? It's not the time to be shy."

His brother shook his head. "We just have to get there, and see the condition of the building for ourselves. I know that we're going to have to be a lot quicker than we were inside the United Nations. The instability of the structure is already in question, and there's still the possibility of having another aftershock. We already had two serious ones today."

"How long are we going to keep having them, Don?" Raphael piped up.

"They can last for weeks...months," he answered. "There's no way I can predict that for you."

Leonardo leaned forward on the seat he was sharing with Raphael so he could get a better look at Donatello. "Do you want to run things for us inside?"

Donny glanced down at the scanner in his hand. "It would probably be best if I did. I'll do my best to keep us out of harm's way."

As Donatello spoke, Leonardo noticed that his brother's gaze was now being drawn out of the passenger window of the Jeep. The blue-masked turtle followed his eyes, and Leo caught his breath at the sight of several uniformed men.

"National Guardsmen," Greg volunteered, glancing in his rear-view mirror at the turtles. "Bran said they were coming, and they didn't waste any time."

"I hope they haven't completely surrounded the Civic Center," Leo muttered to himself.

"There has to be some kind of gap, and you can bet we'll find it," Greg said determinedly.

"We?" Raphael echoed.

"Yeah, _we_," Greg repeated. "You, me, us, however you wanna say it."

Leonardo took another sharp breath. "We should discuss this now, before we get into position to attack the building."

"Discuss what?" Greg already sounded defensive. "You're not leaving me outside, if you think that's in question."

"Greg, we don't know what kind of shape the building is in, or how hard it will be to get to Brandon. It could involve some heavy ninjutsu-" Donatello started.

"And just how were you planning on Bran getting out?" he demanded. "He won't be up for any fancy footwork on his own. I don't care if you have to help me some along the way - I need to be in there. If you can get him through, you can get _me_ through."

"Why do you feel like you need to go in the building?" Leo asked carefully.

"Kelley," Greg said shortly. "I'm not sending you in to the firing squad without standing in the path of those bullets."

"You don't expect this to go well," Leonardo said quietly.

"Leo, I don't know what to expect. He's a Company man; Kelley does his job. I don't know how he'll react to meeting the three of you, but I don't feel like he'll be ready to just jump on the bandwagon. If he isn't cooperative-"

"What, Heff?" Raphael interrupted. "Are you gonna kill him? You know you can't do that. Dealing with him isn't a good enough reason to risk your own skin."

"I think it _is_ a good enough reason. I was going to say that I might be able to stall Kelley, long enough for you guys to get away. I understand that I may be more of a liability than an asset on this mission, but Bran is my best friend, and so are you guys. Don't leave me behind."

Leonardo glanced between his two brothers. "Greg, I'm not sure..." He trailed off slowly. His protective instincts didn't want the man inside the danger zone, but he was struggling with the idea of turning him down flat.

_Twice he's exposed himself to mortal danger with the Akiudo, throwing in his lot with us when he didn't have to. Greg risked his life to help save _my_ shell in Okinawa. How can I look him in the eyes and deny him the chance to stand up for his friend? _The blue-masked turtle swallowed. He was uncomfortable with the decision he'd cast, but at least he'd made one.

"Okay, Greg," Leonardo said hollowly. "You're a full-fledged member of this group, and you've been allowed to put your life on the line several times in the past. I'm not going to deny you that opportunity right now."

His red-masked brother stared at him agape; even Donatello couldn't hide his astonishment.

"It's his choice," Leo insisted. "You didn't forbid Greg from helping in Okinawa, Raph, and the stakes there could have been more dangerous than what we'll face tonight. We don't have the right to turn him away."

"I gotta disagree with you there, Fearless," Raphael hissed in a low tone.

"It's not our place to tell him what to do," Leonardo countered.

"But there's not enough reason for him to risk himself this way!" Raphael shot back.

"I happen to think the three of _you_ are all the reason I actually need," Greg inserted loudly. "I don't want to be a burden to anyone, but I happen to think I deserve this chance as much as you do."

The red-masked turtle's eyes narrowed as he angrily turned to the window. "I just hope I don't have to say 'I told you so', Heff, 'cause I really don't want to in this case."

The Jeep lapsed back into silence as they neared what Greg had called the "two-mile" marker.

The sandy-haired man studied the traffic in front of them. "I think this might be as close as I can get us to the Civic Center on this road. It's possible I could make a little more ground on one of the side streets, but I stand the chance of getting us boxed in too."

Leonardo watched the bustling people crowding the sidewalk with a discerning eye. "I don't want to try and blend in with a crowd unless we have to," he finally said. "Can you try to get us around the block? If there's less traffic, we're probably better off going on foot from here."

Greg went down the side street beside which he'd intentionally stopped, and drove around the corner. He pulled the Jeep into a nearly full parking lot on the next road, so they could assess the situation and prepare to move. Many of the cars were damaged, with windows that were either cracked or busted out completely. As Greg put his car into park, Leo noticed Donatello begin pawing through the contents of the bag at his feet.

"Before we go anywhere, let's get outfitted," Donatello suggested. "I wish we had the helmets, but we don't access to a lot of the same supplies that we did with the UN. I've got headlamps for everyone, as well as more than enough oxis. I wanted to bring most of the spares, not knowing what we'll actually need. Other than that, the only equipment we have to bring in is the grappling guns. From the sound of Brandon's position, we're going to need them. You guys can carry your own hooks, and I'll bring the spare too."

Donatello turned to face Greg to help adjust an oxi to the man's size. Leonardo only watched for a couple of seconds before he focused on slipping the band with the light over his own forehead, and tightened the strap so that it would be more secure. The blue-masked turtle pulled on the hood of his sweatshirt after the light was in place, and he felt the tingle of adrenaline that always preceded the beginning of an operation.

After a couple of minutes of watching yielded no civilians, they got out of the car, and began to silently tread across the darkened streets. The wan light of the street lamps was nonexistent tonight. There was no power to be seen for several blocks, except for the select few residences and businesses that happened to own a generator. Leonardo was grateful for the extra cover, though not happy for the effect it had on the stranded citizens with nowhere to go.

He couldn't hear his brothers' footsteps behind him, neither did he make any sound himself as he melded into the shadows. Leonardo grimaced when there was a moderate crash, and repressed a smile at Greg's whispered curse.

"Sorry," the man announced apologetically. "I'm kind of ruining the intrigue here."

"How 'bout you just watch where your feet are going?" Raphael snickered. "There's no point in telling you not to make any noise. That'd be like asking water not to be wet."

The blue-masked turtle couldn't see Greg's face, but he could tell from his stiff posture that the man was getting irritated.

"I _am_ capable-"

Greg only managed to get three words off before an explosion lit up the darkness a couple of blocks ahead of them, and a fireball spiraled into the sky. Leonardo automatically fell into a defensive crouch, freezing close to the ground with his arms covering his head. With the flash of the fire he was assaulted by an inner vision of running through heavy rainforest, being rocked off his feet, and the annoying buzz of white noise in his right ear. The scenes from the Congo flickered through his mind so quickly that he almost lost sight of where they actually were.

"_Leo_!"

Donatello's insistent voice summoned him back to reality on the sidewalk in New York City, and Leonardo suddenly realized he wasn't breathing.

"Leo, are you okay?"

Something in Donatello's tone told him that it wasn't the first time his brother had called him. Leo took a deep breath to calm down his racing heart. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"I think that was a gas station," Donny told him. "We might want to cross to the other side of this road."

Leonardo nodded as he straightened upright. "Good call. Let's go."

The blue-masked turtle shook off the memory from the Congolese rainforest as he led the way across the street. They began moving quickly when they hit the other sidewalk, though somewhat more carefully than before. Leo kept his face forward and avoided meeting the eyes of any of the people who'd been drawn to look outside by the sound of the blast.

As they neared the burning station the blue-masked turtle held his breath again, and instantly picked up more speed lest another explosion was imminent. He cast a glance over his shoulder at his brothers. Donatello was right behind him, and Raphael was flanking the group from behind, hovering protectively close to Greg.

Leonardo flicked back to Donatello at the sound of his younger brother's rapid shallow breathing. "Are _you _okay, Don?"

Donny shook his head as he stared off into the distance, where the ruined remains of the Civic Center and the Javits building were coming into view. "I sure hope we're ready for this," he murmured.

Leonardo set his face forward determinedly. "We might not _feel _ready, but we're sure more prepared than we were facing the UN. We're just going to focus on one step at a time, rather than looking at the whole overwhelming picture at once."

Donatello cocked his head at him. "You've always been a big picture kind of guy, Leo."

The blue-masked turtle gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, when we've got a chance to strategize properly. Something like this, when we don't even know what's waiting around the next corner…We just have to do the best we can, and go with our instincts. We get those feelings in our guts for a reason, Don."

"Sure, Leo, but not all of us get them as often as _you_."


	33. Coming

Matthew Kelley felt about as helpless as he'd ever been. He and Brandon had long ago abandoned their perch at the bottom of the chasm under the emergency lights, for fear of the debris that was still coming down. They took refuge under a shadowed "arch" that had been created by the collapsing stairwell, and waited for the inevitable.

_Someone to rescue us, or something to kill us. Those are the only possibilities we have left._

Kelley's head _and_ his side ached, but he hardly noticed because of his concern for Brandon. His companion had become quiet - much too quiet for Matthew's liking. As he looked over at Brandon again, he found the young man already staring at him.

"Director, are you armed?"

_Where in the world did that come from? He must seriously be starting to lose it._

"No, James, I don't have my service weapon on me."

"That's good," he said softly.

"What's good?" Kelley pushed back, only hoping to connect to his rational side.

"Nothing," Brandon returned.

"No - you asked for a reason. Why did you want to know?"

Brandon broke eye contact with him, and he didn't respond.

_He's been acting weird ever since he got that phone call. I can't understand how someone got through to him, here, of all places. I wish he'd let me see the phone. I need to go get one like it._

Matthew edged closer to the concrete against which Brandon was propped. "We're all each other has right now, Buddy. I need you to keep talking to me."

Brandon exhaled deeply. "It's hard to explain."

"What's hard to explain? Can you look at me please?"

The younger man had closed his eyes, and didn't react to Kelley. When several seconds had passed, Matthew rested the back of his palm against Brandon's cheek, and he swore inwardly.

_Clammy. That's never good._

The young man's eyes at least flickered. "What are you..."

"Just checking something, Brandon. Can you talk to me some more? Why is something hard to explain?"

"That we're not alone," he answered. "My friends know about us, and they're coming. Probably already here somewhere."

Kelley had his doubts over whether Brandon was in his right mind or not, but he decided to go with it. "That was them on the phone?"

"Uh huh." Brandon didn't elaborate.

"How are they going to find us?"

"They can track me," he mumbled. "It's not hard."

"Then all we have to do is wait? You'll wait _with_ me, won't you, Brandon?" Kelley took a sharp breath._ I've gotta do whatever it takes to keep him awake. I hope he's not hurt worse than I thought he was._

"I'm trying," Brandon replied. "I'm getting tired. And my friends aren't what you'd expect."

"What are you talking about?"

"They're different. Just promise me that you'll give them a chance."

"Different? Can you tell me what that means?"

Brandon appeared frustrated all of the sudden. "I can't. You wouldn't believe me right now."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?"

"Because it sounds crazy. You have to see them for yourself."

Matthew rubbed a hand across his eyes nervously. _He could be talking crazy, but he honestly sounds lucid. This doesn't make any sense. Maybe I should try another tactic._

"Brandon, tell me about your phone."

"My phone?"

"That has to be one incredible device. How on earth did you get it to work down here? Where did you buy that thing?"

"I didn't buy it, and you couldn't either. There're only a handful of them..."

"But where did you get it, James?"

"My friend, one of the guys who are coming. He's really smart."

"He designed your phone?"

Brandon's gaze remained steady for a few moments without blinking, and Kelley snapped his fingers near his face.

"Brandon, don't lose it, okay? Look at me."

"What did you ask me?"

"Your friend, he designs phones?"

Brandon made a sound that was almost a chuckle. "He's a genius."

"Where did you meet him?"

"They're friends with Kat and Greg," he murmured distractedly.

"So all of you know each other?"

"Uh huh. One big family."

Brandon slid sideways and Kelley caught him by his good shoulder, supporting the young man's head as it flopped dangerously.

"Brandon. Open your eyes. Please." Matthew reached to check his pulse, and it throbbed weak and rapid in his grasp.

_This is bad. This could be _really_ bad. _Kelley sighed heavily as he felt a chill coming on._ You make a hundred decisions every day, and one of them finally changes your life forever. How could I have been so selfish? Ellen sounded so scared on the phone yesterday, and Laurie couldn't have been feeling any better._

As the image of a teenage Laurie passed through his mind, he smiled sadly. _She looks more like her Mom every day. She's so smart, and completely...amazing. I wish I had the chance to talk to them again, not that I could explain my decision to stay here today. I was stupid for not going home. I'm paying the price for it now, and they're going to pay too._

_I've been such a fool. Where have the last couple of years even gone? I've been so wrapped up in work; it feels like I miss too many things at home. I'm an idiot, talking to Brandon about the most important things we can have in life. I haven't even valued my family like I should have. I ought to have been taking my own advice. I doubt I'll get the chance to now._

* * *

><p>Raphael felt genuinely vulnerable bringing up the rear of the pack, as they traveled toward the remnants of one of the only visible access points to the Civic Center. They'd been wearing their oxis for several blocks, both against the heavy dust and smoke in the air, and in the hope of disguising themselves better.<p>

_Anyone who gets a real close look at us is gonna be able to tell the difference though. I can't believe we're just strolling up this way. Those soldiers are right over there!_

The street was cast mostly in darkness, with the exception of small banks of lights that were running off generators. Their group was walking toward the building as if they belonged there, keeping their hooded faces hidden from anyone who could be tracking them on the right or left. The red-masked turtle reached to tug on his sweatshirt again, and caught Greg glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Stop fidgeting," the man said under his breath. "They can't see you. If you act awkward, someone's going to question what we're doing here."

Raphael huffed in return, hating the self-conscious feeling hovering over his mind. "We should have tried to get some clothes like theirs, and no one would _have_ to question us." He motioned toward the surrounding National Guardsmen.

"What uniform would have fit _your_ big shell without alterations?" Greg hissed back.

"I'm just sayin' we coulda tried."

"Raph, we don't have time." Donatello didn't even bother turning around. "We've got to get in there as fast as we can."

"Getting in will be moot if we get _caught_ out here," he grumbled.

"If you haven't noticed, we're doing fine, Raph," Leonardo said a little sharply. "No one wants to be this exposed, but our options for reaching the area we need to get to are limited."

They had found other gaps as they tracked around the side of the building, but for the moment, speed of access was trumping their need for self-preservation.

"We're standing out like sore thumbs," Raphael couldn't resist adding.

The blue-masked turtle swiveled his head to glare at him, and Raphael hardly resisted the urge to shrug.

_This is suicide. Any one of these jokers could see us, then we sure as shell won't get near that building._

He stared longingly at the entrance, which was still several yards away. The temptation to throw caution to the wind and run inside was strong, but that would probably fall under the category of drawing undue attention to himself.

_There's gotta be a safer way to do this - we just don't have time to figure..._Raphael broke out of thought as he noticed one of the uniforms jogging, and it looked like the soldier was heading straight for them.

Greg threw out an arm to stop Raphael, then the man dashed in between his brothers to get ahead of them to meet the National Guardsman. The three turtles huddled unmoving, and Raphael could swear he felt everyone's heart beating at once.

"This area has been shut down to non-essential civilians." The soldier's voice carried over to where they were.

"We're not civilians," Greg returned, reaching for his ID.

"FBI? We're not concerned with investigating any crimes right now, Sir. Only search and rescue is going into that building."

"We're part of the effort." Greg's even tone didn't waver. "I'm accompanying a team of contracted professional 'extractors'."

"Where's_ their _ID?" Soldier demanded.

"What do I need to do, sign a waiver?" Greg was getting irritated. "You're not responsible for us, okay? My team needs to get into that building, so you tell me what I need to do, and it's done."

"It's not my call, Sir; this comes from over my head. We've got enough victims to retrieve without adding more to the list."

"You don't have to worry about us," Greg said shortly. "Why don't you try focusing on the people who need help, and we'll do the same? Don't you see how ridiculous it is to be playing gatekeeper when this many lives are in jeopardy?"

"And your little band of FBI Agents is going to do _what_ exactly? You haven't been inside, or seen what I've seen. I've no doubt you're fine investigators, but what good are you going to do inside a crumbling building?"

Something inside Raphael snapped at that instant. Without taking time to think about it, he yanked his hood down as far as he could, and he took off in a sprint toward the stone facing of the Civic Center. Raphael heard Leonardo's muffled swear and he sensed his brothers spring after him, but the red-masked turtle wasn't stopping. He sized up his approach to the building in his mind's eye, right before flipping over two soldiers working on a generator.

He used the momentum he'd built up with his speed to leap to an exposed ledge, then vaulted to the next one across from him. Raphael rapidly scaled his way to the third story, utilizing every corner and ledge in his path to assist in the climb. He heard the grunt of one of his brothers as they copied his maneuver, and Raphael picked up speed to give them more room with which to work.

When he spotted Leo with another glance over his shoulder, Raphael motioned toward the shattered window that was over his head, then he dropped casually inside. The blue-masked turtle followed him in seconds, his frame shaking with anger.

"What the shell were you _thinking_, Raph?" Leonardo turned on his head lamp so that it partially illuminated the space along with the angry features of the oldest turtle.

"I was thinking about getting somewhere, Leo, and Heff wasn't making any ground with that guy!"

"You didn't give him much of a chance," Donatello said more mildly, inserting himself between the older turtles. "This discussion can wait, can't it? We're already in, so let's not split hairs."

Leonardo nodded curtly, though his dark eyes had lost none of their fury. "Can you go ahead and find our bearings with the scanner, Don? Figure out where we're going from here," Leonardo suggested.

Donatello's hand reached for his scanner, but changed directions in a flash to grab his vibrating phone instead. "Hello? Heff! No, that wasn't planned, it was kind of out of our control...No, we won't go without you. I'll throw a cable down so you can reach us. I'm heading to do that right now, just hang on a minute."

"What'd he say?" Raphael asked.

"That soldier ordered Heff to get us out of here." Donny grinned. "Naturally, he volunteered to retrieve us."

"'Make me', that's what I would have said," Raphael muttered, and caught another dark look from Leonardo. "Let it go, Fearless. We're here, aren't we?"

"Ninjutsu is an art form, Raph, not a tool for flying off the handle!"

"Well _excuse_ me for not wanting to stand around listening to som–"

Donatello's hand snaked toward Raphael's shoulder, stopping him before he could go further. "Not now, remember? I need to give Greg a hand in joining us, if you guys would like to stop arguing."

Raphael folded his arms silently as he watched Donatello cast the line of one of the grappling guns out of the window, then duck through the frame to make certain of the position in which it had landed. A couple of seconds later Don started to slowly retract the cable, and backed into the room to wait for Greg.

The red-masked turtle rolled his shoulders to free them of some of the tension stored up inside his muscles. _Shell, I forget about the role Mikey likes to play in these missions. I'd sure feel better if he was around to take a swat at. He'd probably be goofing off and distracting Leo from being irritated with me._

Raphael glanced up as he noticed both of his brothers giving Greg a hand inside the window.

"Geesh, guys," Greg said breathlessly, letting go of the hook so that Donny could finish retracting it. "You could have warned me you were going to do something like that. I mean, it worked, but _still_..."

"It _wasn't_ a group consensus," Leonardo snapped. "And we shouldn't talk about it this second. Donny, where are we going?"

The purple-masked turtle stared down at his scanner, as if waiting for the machine to speak to him. "Brandon said they were on a staircase, on their way up to the Javits building. I think our best move would be to try and utilize the elevator shaft that's adjacent to the stairwell."

"We'd need to get down to the Mezzanine level first, close to the middle of the Civic Center," Greg added. "That's where we can pick up the connection to the Federal building. You made the right move scaling this thing though, Raph, the first level is absolutely crawling with the National Guard."

Donatello looked as if his thoughts were still churning. "By ascending through the shaft, we can more likely guarantee our ability to rappel down to where Brandon and his boss fell."

"You can think and walk at the same time, can't you, Genius?" Raphael asked.

His younger brother cast him an irritated glance. "No more stunts like that last one, all right? The building is unstable. Follow my lead, and don't even think about charging off again."

Raphael couldn't hide a grin. "I love it when you get bossy, Don. It keeps things interesting."

"Then you're going to be _fascinated_ in a minute here," he shot back. "Let's move."


	34. Gap

Donatello was so alert, he jumped at every small sound he encountered as they started down the first hallway, following the rudimentary path the signal strength from Brandon's beacon indicated.

_Making our _own_ path is more like it._

Leonardo was directly beside him, which should have given the purple-masked turtle more confidence to pay attention to his device, instead of listening for an imminent cave-in. Nevertheless, Donny caught himself scanning the ceiling every few seconds as they continued. They hadn't approached any obstacles that were too large to scale yet, but Donatello still wished for some tools.

_As if they would do us any good? We don't have the time to devote to several minutes of breaking through a single barrier anyway. Shell, this place could come down any _second_. I feel like we're borrowing time as it is._

He tried to cast the last thought out of mind, and turned to glance at his blue-masked brother. Leonardo's face was partially illuminated by his head-lamp, so that Donatello could see the hardened determination etched in deep lines across his forehead. Leo's brown eyes flicked over to him.

"Are you remembering to breathe?" Leonardo asked.

"Sometimes," he said ironically.

"Don, _focus_. If you keep thinking about everything that could go wrong, you'll get overwhelmed. Try to shut the distractions out, and keep an eye on where we need to go."

Donny nodded, even though he thought it was easier said than done. He raised a hand to halt their progress, and closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to clear his mind. _Being nervous about what _could_ happen won't put us in any less danger than we are already in. Breathe in calm...breathe out the tension._

"You all right, Donny?" Greg asked after a few moments.

"Yeah. Give me another second to check our coordinates." Donatello felt a pang of impatience as he studied their longitude and latitude, wishing he had a map of where they were trying to get to.

_But even if I had the schematics, the entire face of the structure has changed. The best we can hope for is to follow his signal strength, and pray that we'll be able to find some way through. The risk of getting trapped in the process of searching for him is so great that…_Donatello cut himself off and rolled his eyes. _Helpful thoughts please, only helpful thoughts._

Without bothering to announce any new instructions, Donatello began moving again, his eyes still glued to the screen of his device. He'd walked that way for a few steps when Leonardo's arm pulled him up short from crashing into a piece of rebar that was sticking out of concrete rubble.

"You don't have to focus_ that _hard, Don."

"Sorry. Thanks." Donatello went back to being vigilant about his surroundings, in addition to watching the tracker and temperature gauge that would be indicative of any dangerous flare-ups. A serious fire could be just as catastrophic for them as another collapse. The next temperature reading he got off the ceiling succeeded in bringing the purple-masked turtle to a halt.

"What is it, Don?" Leonardo had noticed the way he was fixed overhead.

"Elevated temps. We need to keep moving."

Donatello picked up his pace to a near trot in his desire to escape the possibility of a fire spreading out of their sight, but he tried not to convey any panic to the others. _How much further can this hallway stretch? It has to come to an end here sometime soon. _

Donatello raised a hand to adjust his head-lamp, directing the beam several feet ahead of them. His search turned up the glowing letters of an exit door, which made him release a small breath of relief. As he glanced below the letters that had attracted his attention, the relief felt short-lived. The concrete barrier that appeared to be blocking the path to the door almost reminded him of a siege ramp.

The purple-masked turtle swore inwardly, and he held up a hand to stop everyone again. "I think we have a serious obstacle up ahead. We might have no choice except to backtrack."

"Do we have _time_ to backtrack?" Greg asked. "That sounds a little counterproductive."

"No, Heff, but we don't have tools or heavy equipment to move this much concrete either. I don't know whether we'll be able to make it through to other side or not. We need to see how badly the door is blocked."

Donatello held his breath automatically as they walked within range of the debris, and he wrapped a hand around a piece of exposed rebar to check how stable the pile was. The concrete didn't even shudder as he maneuvered himself onto the rubble. He climbed slowly, carefully placing his feet in the flattest places he could find.

The exit sign was getting closer, but he had yet to catch a real glimpse of the door. He kept going, hoping against hope that there might be a way through. Donatello's eyes widened when he found a gap near the top of the door, and he carefully edged closer to study measurements.

_If I had to make an educated guess, I think my brothers and I could make it through the gap, if we could somehow get the door open _first_. That's going to be the tricky part, isn't it? Or maybe there's another option, and I'm just not seeing it yet._

His eyes were drawn to return to the exit sign, and he focused on the way the red light was playing off glass directly above it. Donatello drew his bo, and he found that he could reach the shattered remnants of the window with the long staff. He carefully knocked out the remaining shards of glass with his weapon, and considered the size of the frame at the same time.

_That's probably the fastest way to get into the hall, but I don't think we could make it. Our shells would never fit through__.__ Darn it, why does everything have to be so complicated? Is it too much to ask for one simple access point? Nothing can ever be that easy, not when _we're _concerned. I swear the old "turtle luck" can run both ways._

The purple-masked turtle descended with a strong sense of disappointment, but tried to be positive for the others. "There's a gap in the debris. If we can get the door open somehow, we would have a chance of making it through. But the concrete is blocking the frame, and I don't see how we could access the door from this side. There's a window too, but it's too small for-"

A loud cracking cut Donatello off mid-sentence, and he caught his breath as he watched the ceiling fissure a couple of yards down the hall. He opened his mouth, but no words escaped before the weight overhead came crashing down. Don stared in stunned amazement at the large portion of the fourth floor that had collapsed, and he gasped loudly as flames licked through the opening.

The fire wasn't going to be content with the wood it was already consuming; even as he watched, Donatello could see the flames spreading toward the walls of the level from which they were trying to escape. Smoke was building faster than he'd imagined it could, already stinging his eyes as he hesitated.

"_Donny_!" Leonardo's sharp voice snapped him back to attention. "What about the window? You didn't finish!"

"Too small for us!" he returned. "We'd never make it..." Donatello decided against what he'd been about to say when he focused on Greg. "Wait a second. Heff, c'mere, I need you!"

The sandy-haired man didn't bother asking questions. He quickly drew himself up onto the rubble next to Donatello.

"You've got to try and make it through that window, Heff, you're smaller than we are! It might be the only shot we've got!"

Greg swallowed. "It's an exit door, so it _should_ open outward, but if the concrete shifts..."

"I don't think it will, Heff, it feels pretty wedged in here. I'm fairly certain that we'll be able to fit through the gap near the top of the door."

"Okay," Greg replied. "I'm all over it."

As the purple-masked turtle neared the pinnacle of the debris, he reached an arm behind himself to draw Greg closer, and pointed out the window. "Think you can make this work?"

The man looked over his shoulder at the building flames, and he swiftly turned around to face the door. "Absolutely. Can you give me a boost?"

Donatello crouched down on top of the concrete so that Greg could step over him. "You ready, Heff?"

"Fire at will."

Don braced his arms around Greg's legs, and the man made a small leap to more easier allow the turtle to get him airborne. In the beam of his head-lamp he saw Greg catch the inside of the window frame, and yank his way further through it. The man ducked his head, grunting with exertion as he twisted to fit through the narrow space.

Donatello watched with clenched fists until the widest part of Greg's torso made it through the window, and he exhaled deeply. He nodded in satisfaction as the man disappeared from view.

"He's through, guys! C'mon up here and get in position with me!" Donatello called.

The purple-masked turtle glanced back to watch his brothers climb, and he had to clench watering eyes shut for a couple of seconds. His oxi was providing the air he needed, but the scent of the smoke was still close to overpowering. Don opened his eyes to the terrible sight of the spreading fire, and he was grateful for the distraction of the door scraping behind him. He turned to see the gap exposed by the exit door opening, and he waited a breathless moment to check if the concrete was going to shift. The rubble held its position.

"Okay, guys, this is it," Donatello told them.

The red-masked turtle's eyes were wide and uncertain. "I won't make it through there, Don. I ain't a pipsqueak like you and Mike!"

"I'm pretty sure you will, Raph. Take off your belt so it won't get hooked on anything, and with the right amount of maneuvering, you should make it."

Leonardo nodded. "Go ahead, Donny. We'll be right behind you."

Donatello dropped his backpack and his belt through the gap, and he ducked his head through first so that he could use his arms to help power his way to the other side. The squeeze was tight, but with a few seconds of wriggling, he managed to yank the most difficult part of his frame through the opening.

He tucked his head as he fell through mid-air, so that he didn't even_ see _Greg before he landed on top of him.

"_Dang_, Donny, you don't have to tackle me."

Donatello leaped to his feet at once. "You okay? What were you doing there, Heff?"

The purple-masked turtle heard a mighty swear which indicated Raphael was attempting to bull his way through the opening.

"I'm getting out of the way _now." _Greg swiftly stepped aside.

Donatello listened to Raphael struggle for several moments before his brother's head appeared. The tension from the effort he was exerting was stressed painfully in his face.

"Donny! Little help here!"

Donatello stretched to reach his arms, and he pulled Raphael for all he was worth. More precious seconds passed before Don was able to jerk him further through the gap. He partially caught his brother as he landed on the other side, and Raphael heaved for breath.

"You all right, Raph?"

He nodded without speaking. By that time Leonardo had started maneuvering past the opening. The blue-masked turtle contorted through the gap without a word, slipping out of the space with about a third of the trouble that Raphael had experienced. He flipped once through the air, and landed nimbly on his feet beside them.

"Okay," Donatello said calmly, as if they _hadn't_ just escaped nearly being burned to death. "Nice going, Heff. We should keep moving."

Greg snorted. "Who's a liability_ now_?"


	35. Shaft

Donatello was a little surprised when Leonardo called upon Greg to take a position up front with the purple-masked turtle, but he didn't bother saying anything about it.

"Does _any_ of this seem familiar to you, Heff?" Don asked.

The man shrugged. "A lot of these halls look the same to me anyway. I can tell you what I'm thinking, if you want to hear it."

"Of course I want to hear it, Heff! You know this building better than any of us."

"There are a number of elevators that can access Javits from the Civic Center. Based on Brandon's coordinates, I'm guessing he took the main set of stairs. They're located by the busiest bank of elevators on the Mezzanine level."

"Does that mean any backtracking?"

"We're headed in the right direction to get there; it's just a matter of descending to the correct floor. I think our goal should be to infiltrate one of the elevator shafts from there."

Donatello nodded. "I'm just praying we can get access to their stairwell, Heff. Or what's left of it."

The purple-masked turtle hesitated on the stairs they were _currently _using, as a creaking overhead caught his attention. He paused for a few seconds and eyed the ceiling warily before glancing down at his feet.

_I don't even like using_ these _stairs._

"Guys...I think we need to consider getting off at the next stop," he announced.

Donatello caught a nod from Leonardo, encouraging him to continue. Greg motioned to the exit door on the following landing.

"Hold on a second," the man urged.

Greg studied a non-descriptive map posted by the door, describing what their current location was. "Okay. Let's just try this, and see what happens."

Donatello willingly followed the man out the door into the next hallway, and glanced back at his brothers. They were both breathing easily through the oxis, without any evidence of difficulty from the smoke. The masks were _supposed_ to sufficiently protect them, but it was relieving to see them stand up to the test.

Greg picked up a little speed in front of him, and Donatello realized that the hallway was widening out, no longer closed in on both sides. They circled around an airy overlook with a railing that gave the purple-masked turtle a full view of the Civic Center.

"The Mezzanine," Greg offered, his eyes scanning left and right below. "The elevators we need are just across from that fountain. I wish we could access them from these floors, but we've got no choice except to get down from here. And uh...I see lights. There are definitely people already down there."

Leonardo shook his head. "There's no way around it. It's not as if we have time to find another way through that might not even exist. We just have to do what we have to." The blue-masked turtle eyed a narrow pillar on the other side of the railing. "We could probably get to the Mezzanine without a real issue."

Donatello stared over the edge at the same pillar on which his brother was focused. "It's not that far of a drop. If we time it right so that no one's nearby, maybe give Greg a hand..."

"We'll do it," Leonardo said decisively.

Raphael growled from behind them. "More of those National Guard guys are down there? Couldn't they be doing something useful, _besides_ getting in our way?"

"Do we have a plan?" Greg asked.

"Yeah," Leonardo replied. "We're gonna shimmy down this pillar."

"Okay...and am I just going to fly?"

"Not unless you feel like trying your wings out, Heff." Leonardo grinned.

The sight of Leonardo's smirk was strangely comforting to Donatello.

"In all seriousness, Heff, I think you can do it," Leo continued.

"I dunno, Fearless, this is the guy who couldn't walk in a straight line outside." Raphael snickered.

"I didn't hear you laughing when I got your shell away from that fire!" Greg shot back, and glanced over the edge where Leonardo had motioned. "It looks like I could reach the pillar okay, but it still makes me a little nervous."

"I'll go first, and provide you with some insurance," Leonardo offered. "Then you can decide for certain."

The blue-masked turtle stretched over the edge of the railing, and wrapped both legs around the pillar. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Greg, and nodded before he began shifting his way down to the floor.

Greg shrugged as he watched Leonardo slide to the Mezzanine. "Well...it's not the craziest thing I've ever done."

Donatello watched the man inhale as he climbed over the railing. Greg reached both arms around the pillar, and held on tightly as he got his bearings.

"I'm right below you, Heff. Slowly, you can start inching you way down. Take your time."

"No problem," Greg wavered slightly.

Raphael knuckled Donatello's shoulder with a grin. "Talk about making a big deal out of nothing."

Donatello shook his head. "Greg's not as helpless as we act like he is sometimes."

Raphael snorted. "You can't say that in his earshot, Donny. You trying to give him a big head or something? After you, Bro."

Donatello peered over the railing, nodding when he saw Greg's feet hit the floor. He had to squint to be able to see Leonardo waiting in the shadows, and then he scanned the area as a couple more figures walked through the middle of the Mezzanine. Don waited for them to move out of sight before sliding down the pillar himself.

He backed up to join Leonardo and Greg closer to the wall. His older brother's face looked grim.

"What is it, Leo?"

"We need to get past_ them_." Leonardo's gaze was fixed on the cluster of shadows across the room. "Greg said the connecting elevators are through there."

"There must be some way to divert them." Donatello glanced at Greg hopefully.

"They're not just standing around, Don, they're helping transport people out of the building," Greg explained.

The purple-masked turtle shook his head. "There's gotta be a way."

Raphael darted away from the pillar to join them by the wall. "What are we doing?"

"Observing for a moment," Leonardo responded.

"We need to get past them goons, huh?"

"They're not _goons_, Raph," Greg said a little defensively. "They're rescuing people out of one of those elevators."

"You know what I mean, Heff. They're still in our way."

"Let me think," Greg murmured. "Maybe I could draw them away temporarily..."

"But that could mean being forced to leave you behind," Leo interjected.

"You've already done that once. If it's the only way, I'm up for it."

"I'd rather not lose you unless we don't have a choice," the blue-masked turtle said. "Let's wait a couple of minutes, and see if an opportunity presents itself."

_Wait? There's no time for waiting, we have to move_! Donatello felt like screaming. He cast Leonardo an anxious look, as the soldiers' voices suddenly went high with excitement.

"All hands - I need all hands!" One voice rose above the others.

Donatello watched keenly as the men crowded around the bank of elevators, and he saw some of their lights disappear inside the shaft.

"C'mon, _now_," Leonardo said at once. "While they're occupied!"

Donatello ignored the alarm that screamed in his mind as they dashed toward the greatest objects of their concern. Greg took the lead as they approached the elevators, and he tried to hurry them directly past the soldiers. For a moment it looked like the intense effort would be enough to sufficiently keep the men occupied, but inevitably, one of the soldiers took notice of them.

"Act normal, and stay back a little," Greg instructed them quickly.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" The soldier didn't so much sound accusing as he did concerned.

"We have a job to do, the same as you!" Greg barked. "Mind your rescue, and we'll take care of ours!"

The stranger seemed satisfied with his self-assured answer, and went back to heeding what his _own _comrades were doing. Greg directed the group to the elevator two doors down, closest to the stairwell.

"We need to get the doors open." Donatello glanced at Raphael. "Wanna give it a go?"

The red-masked turtle drew his sai, and worked the tip through the narrow opening between the doors to force them apart. Donatello took a position on one side of Raphael, while Leonardo joined him on the other. They each grabbed a hold of one of the doors as Raphael separated them.

A dark empty shaft greeted them, and Donatello ducked his head inside to see how the mechanism had held up. He grimaced as he gazed at broken cables, and immediately looked down. The car _looked _like it was still intact, several feet from where he was standing.

_These elevators have a lot more built in safety features than the cables alone provide, _he reasoned_. I hope it holds out long enough. We're in no position to get caught in the middle of the soldiers' operation._

"Don, hurry up," Leonardo hissed. "We're kind of exposed here, in case you've forgotten."

Donny nodded and leaped onto the hydraulic rail in the center of the shaft._ Okay, the best way to do this...we may be stuck using the grappling guns. I don't like the idea of using this rail to get around without being sure of its stability._

He turned his gaze overhead and searched for something solid they might be able to easily hook. The purple-masked turtle knew his brothers had to be getting antsy, but he was responsible for getting them to the next level _safely_. Donatello didn't like most of what he was seeing.

"_Donny_." Raphael growled softly.

When he looked in their direction again, his head-lamp lit across a row of indentations that marred the otherwise smooth wall of the shaft. Donatello leaned toward them curiously, and grinned when he saw how deep the pockets were. He swung one leg toward them, and breathed in relief when he found a place for his hands too.

_Like a built-in ladder...that's perfect._

Donatello climbed a couple of feet, and called back over his shoulder to get his brothers' attention. "Guys! Feel inside the shaft, about a foot and a half to your left! There are small ledges with built- in metal grips. I think it's the safest way for us to do this."

He ascended a little further, and flashed his light as he noticed one of his brothers ducking into the shaft. Don hovered in position until Leonardo called back to him.

"This works, Don! Keep going. How many levels do you want to go up?"

"I'm going to start with two, and see where that gets us, Leo."

Donatello continued climbing steadily hand over hand, turning his head occasionally to watch for the reassuring flash of one of the other lights behind him. He sucked in a sharp breath when he heard a shudder echo loudly through the shaft.

_C'mon, we've gotten this far. No way it's going to give out on us now._

"Pick up the pace, guys!" he yelled warningly, and began ascending faster.

When he realized he was approaching another entrance to the shaft, Donatello drew a knife from his side and pulled himself onto to the ledge by the doors. He wedged his blade between the doors, but then realized he couldn't exert the necessary pressure to separate each side simultaneously. He waited for the others to catch up so they could help him, leaning his weight against the doors to steady his balance on the narrow ledge.

"Donny?" Leonardo sounded like he was close by.

"I'm right up here, Leo, I want to try abandoning the shaft. I need help getting the doors separated."

The blue-masked turtle drew up onto the ledge beside him. "There's not enough space for all of us at once. If I grab this side, can you get the other?"

They yanked the metal doors apart, to reveal destruction on the other side. Donatello stared at the sparking electrical wiring overhead, and his heart skipped a beat.

"We need to make this work, Don," Leonardo said in a low voice. "I felt the walls of the shaft vibrating too much for my liking."

"I don't think we're going to want to come back this way."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "No. The soldiers were getting ready to move on this elevator as it was. We'll have to find another way out."

Donatello climbed over ceiling tiles and concrete, stopping out of range of the damaged electrical wiring. He shifted from one foot to the other as he waited for Raphael and Greg to get out of the shaft, clenching his fists when the floor creaked beneath him. He glanced over at Leonardo, and noticed his brother was already gazing down the hallway, fixated on an exit sign.

The purple-masked turtle took a couple of steps toward the door, and drew out his scanner to check on Brandon's coordinates again.

_His signal is so strong...this has to be it._

Tentatively he wrapped a hand around the door and opened it carefully. In the scant light of his head-lamp he saw what looked like part of the landing, with edges sawed off where the stairs _should _have been. Donatello took a quick look up, then focused his light down into the wide chasm below him. Leonardo came up behind him, and he turned around to face him.

"This looks like the place," Donatello told him.

"Let's find somewhere to get hooked up, Don. We have to get down there."


	36. Strangers

Matthew Kelley tried to keep himself occupied with watching over Brandon, who'd become increasingly unresponsive. The younger man sounded rational enough when he had first come around, but Kelley couldn't say the same for every conversation they'd had since. When he'd tried to probe deeper into the truth behind Brandon's "friends", his responses had become almost nonsensical.

Kelley checked Brandon's head injury carefully, and found the makeshift bandage damp, but not completely soaked through. He rested his head tiredly against the concrete barrier.

_This feels too terrible to be real. Why didn't I go home to Ellen when I had the chance? How long will she have to wait and worry before someone manages to recover Brandon and me? _With the passing minutes, he'd all but lost hope of being rescued in time. _The building is too big, and we're stuck in the dead center...Rescuers would have to work their way in, and I'm sure they're finding plenty of victims to occupy them._ _I hope they can get most of those people out before this building finishes collapsing._

Kelley's head popped up at the sound of small debris trickling down from the ceiling. The rocks sounded inconsequential, but he'd been paying attention to every trace of rubble coming down, lest it was preceding something larger. He closed his eyes to block out the chasm, dreadfully tired of being so on edge.

_What good is it going to do to watch the ceiling come down on us? Maybe its better that Brandon isn't awake, so he won't have to see what's going to seal our fates. I wish I didn't have to see it coming either, or feel so guilty for staying here, when I should have gone home today._

A flash of a thin beam of light against his eyelids startled him into opening them, and made him wonder if he'd imagined it. Kelley cocked his head as the beam lingered on the floor under the open chasm, and caught his breath when he heard a voice.

"Watch the lines, don't cross with me, Raph! They could get tangled."

Excitement surged through his veins like an electric shock. Kelley had no idea how it was possible for someone to have already gotten this close to him, but he wasn't about to suggest that their rescuers come back later.

Matthew made sure that Brandon was secure in the position in which he was propped, and got to his feet slowly. His side protested, but he ignored the pain as he ventured toward the entrance to the chasm. Kelley was further encouraged when he looked up, and saw_ three _beams steadily descending from above. In the dim glow of the emergency lights he could barely make out the shadowed figures, but he was simply grateful they were _there_.

"Hello? We're down here! Do you hear me?" Matthew shouted. "Please hurry!"

"Brandon?" One of the shadows called in return.

Kelley couldn't believe his ears. _Brandon was right. He said someone he knew was coming. Who _are _these people, and how can I get them on my payroll? _He cleared his dry throat to yell back.

"Brandon's here, and he's hurt! We need help!"

"We're coming," another assured smoothly, possessing a voice nothing like the first.

The strong sense of confidence portrayed in those two words was so tangible that Matthew exhaled as if they were already safe. His relief instantly disappeared when he heard the distinct sound of metal and concrete giving way from above the strangers. Kelley leaped to the side, hitting the ground as pain burned through his muscles.

Matthew looked back up in horror to see one of the rescuers falling. He wanted to look away, but stared transfixed as the stranger's descent _changed_. He watched open-mouthed as the figure bounced off one side of the chasm to the other. The shadow continued the pattern for several feet, using strong legs to spring back and forth as if he was doing no more than taking a walk through the park. With one final push off the left side, the stranger dropped into a tucked position and flipped to the ground, landing silently a couple of feet from where Kelley had fallen.

Matthew stared aghast at the newcomer, who was now standing calmly like nothing unusual had happened. Definitely_ need them on my team. Why on earth didn't Heffernan or Brandon ever mention they cavorted with gymnasts?_

"Leo! Are you okay?"

A shout from above broke Kelley from his stare, and he looked up to see the other two still traveling toward them.

"I'm fine!" the figure returned. "Hurry and get down here! We're running out of time!"

Matthew pushed up on his side, grimacing as he got to his feet.

"Are you all right?" The stranger addressed him directly, though Kelley noticed he didn't come any closer. He'd also turned off his light, which seemed like a strange move to the man.

"Yes," Kelley replied. "That was amazing! How did you...what do you _do_ for a living?"

"That would take time to explain. You must be Director Kelley, Brandon's boss?"

Matthew nodded, looking past the speaker as the other two landed behind him, gripping some type of a line in both hands. "You're his friends? Brandon told me someone was coming. It seems obvious, I mean, I don't know how else you could have found us, or how you would have known me. I don't know on earth you got through to him on the phone, but I'm sure glad you did. I was starting to wonder if we'd be rescued in time…" He winced as he trailed off. _Talking too much, Kelley. Why do you _always _say too much?_

"Did he explain anything to you about us?" the same speaker asked.

Matthew was mystified by the question. "No, not really. He said you were 'different,' whatever that means. Listen, Brandon appears to be getting worse; he needs help. Can you just get us out of here? I'm dying to talk to you, but maybe we could do it somewhere safer."

"I'm going to give you fair warning before you see me, because I don't want to startle you," the figure returned. "I need you to understand that we're friends with Brandon, and we don't mean you any harm."

_Startle me? Why on earth would he..._Kelley's thought cut off as the stranger turned his light on, and it revealed a face that was nothing like he'd expected. "What are you wearing?"

The creature held out both hands as he slowly approached him. "I'm not wearing anything strange, Director. This is just what I am. My brothers and I, we're mutants."

"Mutants?" Kelley had the feeling that he'd been transported into a parallel universe where dreams had become real, and the actual reality had ceased to exist. "I don't..." He instinctively backed away from the creature, even though he couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"I know this comes as a shock." The thing really sounded sympathetic. "But we've only come to help you. Please show us where Brandon is."

Kelley nodded his head in the direction of the archway, and he was surprised when the other two strangers promptly dashed around the first. The speaker didn't move from his position in front of Kelley.

"Wait, what are they going to do with him? Brandon needs medical attention, they shouldn't..." Matthew was finding it hard to breathe as panic seized his chest. _This is _crazy_. I'm going crazy right now._

"They're not going to hurt him," the masked stranger explained. "We're his_ friends_. We risked our lives to come here. We'll get you out too, Sir, but that means you're going to have to trust me long enough for us to help you escape. Are you able to do that?"

Kelley trembled unconsciously as the creature took another step closer. The figure folded his arms with a sigh, and fixed Matthew with a plaintive look that was so human, it was shocking.

"_Mutants_," Kelley said softly once more. "Is that what Brandon meant, when he said you were different? He said he couldn't explain, because I wouldn't believe him."

The stranger nodded gravely.

"So you know Brandon...as well as Greg and Katherine. He said you were a_ family._" Kelley struggled to pronounce the last word with a steady voice.

The figure maintained his respectful distance. "Greg is here too - he's waiting for us at the top. We figured we didn't need to risk him coming down here. I'm sure he'll explain more of this to you, if you give him the opportunity."

"This is insane," Kelley mumbled. "Either I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown, or I hit my head a lot harder than I thought."

"If you'd like to believe that we're figments of your imagination, I'd be happy to let you."

"But you're not, are you?" Matthew swallowed as he tried to stop his hands from trembling. "You're real."

He didn't have a chance to respond before one of the others returned. "Fearless, Bran won't wake up. We've gotta speed this along."

Matthew turned to study the creature with the heavy accent, and caught a flash of crimson on the band across his face.

"Are you ready to move him, Donny?" the original speaker called to the one out of sight.

"I don't think his neck is broken, but I put a collar on to be safe! He's displaying symptoms of shock, Leo. We don't have any more time to waste."

"I'm going to need to use one of your grappling guns," the first mentioned. "I lost mine when the tile caved in."

"I've got the spare, Leo. You can use that one," the softer spoken one replied, and he began sifting through a bag to find whatever they'd been discussing.

Matthew watched in amazement as the red-masked one bore Brandon up in his arms, as if the man weighed nothing. The manner of the creatures was nonchalant, as if they did this kind of thing every day of the week.

"What do you say, Director? Are you coming with us, or not?"

Kelley jumped when the first one reappeared in from of him. "Do I have to get onboard your mother-ship?"

"That depends on whether or not you're gonna _talk_," the red-masked one replied in a low tone.

"_Raph_." The first threw his "brother" a stern glance, and he looked back at Kelley. "We're not going to _make_ you do anything," he continued more softly. "Will you accept our help?"

"Wherever you take Brandon, I want to be there."

The one handling Brandon shook his head. "You don't have to protect him from us." His tone dripped with sarcasm.

"I understand you don't mean him any harm, but I feel responsible for him. I tried hard to keep Brandon awake, and I couldn't do it."

"So you're coming," the first creature stated rather than asked.

Kelley hesitated another instant, then nodded.

"Donny, will you help us with the harness?" the creature requested.

"Harness?"

"When this gun retracts, it travels pretty quickly. I don't want you to lose your grip on me - it's hard to hold on to my shell."

"_Shell_?"

The stranger shook his head. "You want out of here?"

"Please!"

"Then you're going in the harness. Donny, hook it up please."

The third turned up right beside Matthew. "Turn around and face my brother's back. I have to loop the harness over both of you."

Kelley forced himself to stand still, though he had a hard time not shivering when the creature's fingers brushed his arm. When the action was complete, Matthew shifted uncomfortably. "Now what?"

"You should still try to hold on to me. It's going to be another minute or so." The creature fired his device over their heads, and Kelley realized that the gun possessed a cable.

_Oh, I see...so they can use it for both rapelling and climbing._

"There's a motor involved here, so when we start moving, it's going to be fast," the stranger warned him. "Brace yourself."

Kelley wound his arms around the shell as far as he could, driven more by fear of falling than his current fear of the unfamiliar creatures. His breathing quickened as his feet left the ground.

_If this is a hallucination, it's very convincing._


	37. Tag Along

Michelangelo was grateful when the phone picked up on the other end. He'd been trying to reach Marcus non-stop for the last hour. This time the signal wasn't as much the problem as was his friend not answering.

"Mike?" Marcus was slightly breathless. "I'm sorry, I've been with a bad case. What's going on?"

"You haven't heard anything yet? I thought Don or Leo might have tried to call you."

"Call me about what? What's wrong?" Marcus' radar was instantly on alert.

"You don't know anything about the Federal Building?"

"There's sort of a cocoon effect going on here at the hospital, Mike. Just tell me what's going on!"

"The news is saying that the Civic Center took a worse hit from that bad aftershock. We got a distress signal from Brandon, and the guys went in after him, maybe Greg too."

He heard Marcus gasp. "How long ago?"

"They've been gone close to two hours."

"I can't believe..." Marcus didn't finish the thought. "Mikey, I'm going to head that direction. If you hear anything else from them in the meantime, tell the guys I'm coming to help. You haven't heard from them since they left?"

"Not yet. Can you get away from the hospital like that?"

"You bet I can, and I'm going to. I'm about to start flying here, Mike, so I'm hanging up the phone!"

"Okay, Marc, be careful!" The orange-masked turtle silently hung up the phone, and glanced at the circle of women around the room.

"Is he going to head over there?" April asked.

Mike nodded. "The medical help certainly won't hurt them, right?"

"It was a great idea," April returned. "Marc is probably upset that he didn't know anything about it to start with."

Michelangelo hung his head. "Well, it wasn't for a lack of trying," he murmured.

He felt the light pressure of Rebecca's hand on his knee, and raised his head to face her.

"No one's blaming you, Mikey," she said.

"I know," he replied dully. "I just wish I could do more. I wish I was _with_ them." Mike felt like pacing, but he didn't have the energy. "This waiting around stuff stinks."

Jenna shook her head. "Welcome to _our_ world," she said ironically.

Mike's eyes traveled to Karina, who was sprawled across the other end of the couch with Olivia resting against her shoulder. The bronze-haired woman hadn't said anything for several minutes. While he watched, she brushed her lips against the sleeping baby's forehead.

"I guess I should lay her down," Karina remarked to no one in particular. The woman didn't look like she wanted to let go of Olivia. Nevertheless, she rose a couple of seconds later and headed for the Master Bedroom where the play-pen had been erected.

When Mike turned his attention back to the room, he found Calley gazing at him.

"You should think about lying down too, Mike," she told him.

The orange-masked turtle shook his head. "I'm not sleeping at a time like this, Calley, not with them out there."

"That's not what I meant," Calley said. "I just think you could be in a better position."

"I'm not tired."

The blond woman got out of the recliner in which she was sitting, and motioned him toward it. "I'm going to fix something hot. Put your feet up, Mike."

Michelangelo had been sitting in the same place ever since his brothers had left, and only now noticed how swollen his ankles were.

_What? How weird is that?_

He shuffled to his feet and dropped into the chair without saying a word about the strange condition. From the glance Calley gave him over her shoulder, it was apparent she'd already seen it. From Rebecca's expression, it was clear he hadn't managed to hide anything from her either.

"Mike, when did that swelling start?"

"I don't know," he said honestly.

April retrieved a pillow off the couch, and laid it on the end of the footrest. "Put your feet on that, Mike, and keep them elevated, okay?"

He resisted the urge to groan. _Figures. My bros are out there risking their lives, and everyone's going to worry about _me_, as usual. This is getting so old. _Mike turned his head toward the window, and gazed out into the semi-darkness.

_There still aren't as many lights outside as there should be. _Memories surged in his mind of a night like this one several years ago, when all four turtles had ventured into the United Nations to save Jenna. _It didn't really hit me how Sensei must have felt, watching us go. I think I get it now...and I don't like it._

He tried to take a deeper breath, and grimaced at the familiar twinge of pain. _No way tonight is going to be as bad as last night. Donny said stress could contribute to it, so I gotta calm the shell down somehow._

Calley cleared her throat as she placed a steaming mug on the table beside him.

"Thanks," he said automatically, hardly looking at the cocoa before he tried it. "Whoa. Not tea. Way to surprise a guy."

She actually smiled. "Some people say that chocolate is better than medicine."

To his surprise, he chuckled too. "My Sensei would have liked that saying."

* * *

><p>Greg was nervously waiting on the opposite side of the chasm, as Leonardo was the first to ascend to the hallway. He took a shuddering breath when he realized the turtle had Kelley, and forced a calm expression. As he reached to help unhook the harness, Kelley's eyes widened.<p>

"Heffernan! You _are_ here!"

Leonardo nodded. "I told you he was waiting for us, Director."

"Where's Brandon?" Greg asked immediately.

"With one of the other...guys like him," Kelley finished more carefully.

"They're coming," Leonardo said crisply. It was clear the turtle's patience was wearing a little thin.

"Is Bran okay?"

Leonardo shook his head anxiously. "I don't know. Brandon's unconscious - Don says he's going into shock."

Greg swore and glanced back at his boss, to find Kelley already staring at him.

"What's going on, Heffernan? Who are they, and where did they come from?"

"You_ do _realize that one of them is standing in front of you, right?" Greg snapped, ready and eager to leap to the turtles' defense.

"Greg, I'm just looking for some answers. What's going on?"

Greg held his gaze steadily, refusing to break eye contact. "I'm sorry, Sir. This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion."

"Now hold on a second-"

"No offense, Director, but you can do whatever you want with me, and it won't make any difference. I'm not getting into any explanations right now. Let's concentrate on escaping. Everything else is kind of irrelevant, don't you think?"

Kelley's brow furrowed, as if he was finally _seeing _Greg for the first time. "Why..." he began, and paused to ask the question that really mattered. "How do we get out?"

"We're blazing a trail," Greg answered. "We can't go back the way we came in. Too many people."

"Too many witnesses?"

"They're not _criminals_!" Greg couldn't bring himself to add a "sir" this time. "Not that I expect you to view them any differently," he muttered.

"How did you expect me to react, Heffernan? It sounds like you already have it figured out."

Annoyance burned through Greg's mind, and he unconsciously clenched his fists. "I'm not doing this. I want to get out of here alive, and not think about anything else. Can you give me peace for that long?"

Kelley exhaled sharply. "Okay. No more questions, except how do we get out of here?"

"We'll figure it out as we go along," Greg answered. "Hopefully it won't be nearly as hard as getting to you guys was." He stiffened as the floor shuddered. "And the building won't come down on us first."

Kelley paled in the faint light of Greg's head-lamp, and he realized how shaken the man was for the first time.

_I've never seen anything faze him, but this_ is _pretty extreme. He had to think he was going to die down here, and we're_ still _not safe._

"We made it this far," Greg said with more confidence. "We're going to make it out."

He glanced past Kelley to watch Leonardo catch Raphael's arm, and pull him toward their section of the hallway out of the chasm. His breath caught in his chest when he glimpsed Brandon in the turtle's arms.

Kelley turned around to watch the scene with him. "Heffernan, for what it's worth...Thanks for coming after us. Well..._him_. I know I'm just a tag-along, and I'll gladly accept the ride. I'd like the chance to get home to my wife and daughter."

Greg felt his exterior softening. "For the record, I wouldn't have intentionally left you out in the cold either. It just so happens that Brandon carries the means by which we could track him, and we share some very determined friends."

"I can see that. They appear to be...uniquely talented."

Greg snorted. _You have no idea. _

His gaze traveled to Donatello as the purple-masked turtle climbed into their hallway. Don headed straight for Brandon, and knelt down beside him with his backpack. While Greg watched the turtle selected an epi-pen from one of the pockets and injected it into Brandon's arm. To Greg's surprise, Kelley jerked beside him.

"What's he doing?"

"Relax, Director. Donny_ knows_ what to do for him. He's only going to help Brandon."

"Is he the genius?"

Greg nodded. "Donny, how is he?"

"His blood pressure dropped pretty far," Donatello called over. "That's probably what caused him to pass out. I gave him a shot of noraphim to help stabilize it, at least until we can get him to help outside. We shouldn't linger any longer." Don got to his feet. "Raph, do you want to handle him?"

The red-masked turtle nodded his assent. "Yeah, Donny, I got 'im."

Donatello and Leonardo exchanged a glance before the purple-masked turtle joined Greg at the head of the group. "So how about we get out of here?"

"Sounds good to me, Don. Are we heading for the ground floor?"

"I don't know what else we can do," he replied, his eyes glued to the screen of his scanner. "I'm not detecting any hot spots in the vicinity, so we're good on that front."

Greg noticed that Donatello hadn't even glanced at Kelley yet. "Lead the way, Don."

It was a large burden off Greg's shoulders to have found Brandon, even in his current condition. His nerves over Kelley, however, were just beginning to skyrocket. _He doesn't know anything about them yet,_ he reminded himself._ I'm sure Brandon wouldn't have mentioned the whole vigilante thing. I'm not planning to either. The less he knows, the better._

Greg cast Kelley a sidelong glance, and realized the difficulty the man was having in matching their pace. "Director, are you hurt?" He pulled up short immediately.

"I'm fine," he insisted, though he sounded winded.

Donatello cast a probing look at the man, but he didn't move toward him yet.

"I swear, I'm okay," Kelley assured them. "I just can't move as quickly as usual."

"Sir, if you don't mind...well, I probably should have taken a look at you before..." Donatello hedged. "I won't be invasive or anything. I have a hand-held device that can take a scan to give me a picture of your vitals."

Kelley looked back at him uncertainly.

"Don't be ridiculous - he's not going to hurt you." Greg was exasperated all over again. "Heck, give me the machine, and show me which button to push, Don." Greg realized then that the turtle had sensed Kelley's apprehension, and had purposefully been avoiding him.

"No, it's fine," Kelley said quickly. "Go ahead and do what you need to."

Donatello tapped a few keys to make an adjustment on the machine while he scanned Kelley, and Greg saw his boss gazing at the device curiously.

"What does it do?" Kelley asked.

"Too many things for me to tell you about," he replied evasively. "At the moment, all I'm doing is gathering your basic vital information. Temperature, blood pressure, things like that."

"This is yours? It's your design?"

"Yes." Donatello studied the read-out without looking up. "All things considered, you look fairly normal. Would you let me have a quick look at your side?"

"How did you know..."

"It's the way you were carrying yourself. I've had a lot of experience with injuries, Sir."

Kelley cocked his head at the turtle, but remained still while Don probed his side. When the man winced, Donatello withdrew his hand.

"Sorry. There's definitely a small indentation under the skin...It's indicative of a torn muscle. If you can still contract the muscle, it's probably only a partial separation. Is it very painful?"

"Only when I try to use it," he said ruefully. "But I'll be okay, honestly. I just can't keep up as well as I'd like to."

"We'll slow down," Donny said. "If you need help, or start to feel anything strange, you have to speak up, Sir."

"You really_ do _know what you're doing."

Donatello shrugged at Kelley. "My brothers and I have been around."

Leonardo came up behind Kelley. "Is everything okay?"

"I think so, Leo, but we have to watch our speed a little. Director Kelley is hurt too."

"You should have said something," Leonardo said briskly to Kelley. "Are you all right to continue?"

"Yes, uh..."

"You can call me Leonardo. We should keep moving."


	38. Descent

Raphael was relieved when Brandon stirred in his arms. "Hey, guys, hold up a second!" he called from the back of the line. "Bran?"

The man turned his head. "Raph? Is that you?"

"Well, it sure ain't the Pope." The red-masked turtle grinned.

"What have you done with me?"

"Oh, nothing, just pulled your butt out of trouble as usual."

"Right - so who's gonna save_ you_?"

Raphael chuckled, and noticed Donatello backtracking.

"Can you put him down for a second, Raph? I want a quick look at him."

"I can walk by the way. I'm not hurt that bad," Brandon mentioned.

"You're weaker than you think you are," Donatello said gently.

"You guys are always trying to convince me of that," Brandon grumbled.

The purple-masked turtle smiled. "Aren't you in a fine mood? How about you just try to follow my light?"

The man's gaze faltered somewhat as he tracked the penlight. "What happened? I remember the quake, and some things after that. I know I talked to you...but there's not much else."

"You've been in and out a little bit, Bran. You're dealing with some shock which I'm already combating. It's good to see you awake. You need to try to stay that way," he said mock sternly.

"I'll do that, if you guys will get around to the 'rescuing' part already."

"Don't worry, Brandon, we're on a path to shoot out of here as soon as we can. Hold on, and this nightmare will be over before you know it."

Raphael hefted the man up in muscular arms again. "No worries, fair maiden. This knight is gonna get you back on solid ground."

"Few more words like that and you'll make Karina jealous enough to come after me."

"You think your little sister could take you, Bran?"

"I think a feather could take me right now."

"You're in luck, man; I haven't seen a single feather in this place." Raphael felt someone's eyes locked on him, and glanced over to see Kelley staring. _Shell, I wonder if he heard what Brandon said about Karina. Not that he'd be able to put two and two together. We're just freaks to him, and it's better for him to keep thinking that._

Raphael started walking again, and felt a pang of relief when Kelley looked away. Greg had coached all of them not to say a word about their true activities in the city, or to answer most of Kelley's questions. _You'd think this guy spells the end of the world for us as we know it. You wouldn't guess it to look at him, but I guess he's got a pretty powerful position. Hopefully he'll either be grateful enough to keep his mouth shut, or he'll succeed in convincing himself we're some insane hallucination he's having. Though the longer we spend with him, the less likely he's going to believe that._

The sound of a thunderous _crack _broke Raphael out of reverie over Matthew Kelley, and he almost dropped Brandon as the floor physically shifted under his feet. The red-masked turtle swore as the ceiling also gave way under the increased pressure, and heavy debris rained down around them. For a terrifying moment he heard nothing except the now distant rumbling, and the rapid breathing of his companions.

"Is everyone all right?" Leonardo checked. "Speak up!"

"Just barely," Donatello volunteered. "Greg and I are okay. I_ think _that was an aftershock."

"Raph?" Leonardo barked before Raphael could speak.

"We're cool, Fearless. I've still got Brandon." Raphael turned to look for Kelley, and found the man on the ground. "Are you okay? Can you get up?"

The man was trembling. "You don't have to burden yourself with me," he gasped painfully. "I'm slowing you down."

"We don't leave people behind," Leonardo replied, reaching to pull the man upright. "Can you still move? I can help you."

"I can make it," he said with a surprising sense of renewed determination. "I can go faster. We have to. The building isn't going to last, and I have to get home. I can't leave my family."

"You're going home to them," Leo said firmly, and looked over his shoulder. "We are going to have to pick up the pace again, Don! This feels like a really dangerous position!"

The blue-masked turtle fixed Raphael with another look, and Raphael understood the silent message.

_We can't let Kelley fall behind._

It took a little time to maneuver over the new concrete and metal littering their path, but speed had become a priority again. The smell of smoke permeated the ventilation system, which only added to Raphael's urgency. Donatello wasn't even taking the time to follow along with his scanner now; he and Greg were completely focused on finding the most efficient way through the earthquake-tossed remnants of the building.

In his arms, Brandon was quiet, his former sense of humor completely stifled. Raphael constantly alternated between scanning Brandon, watching where he was going, and keeping tabs on Kelley. The man's limp was much more prominent, but he was moving as if their lives depended on it. A flash of guilt coursed through Raphael as he considered their unilateral anxiety over Kelley. _He just wants to get out of here to his family, and all we're doing is worrying about the danger he poses to us._

Raphael saw Kelley stumble and was about to surge forward when Leonardo leaped over to the man, threading an arm around his back.

"Stay beside me, Director."

The man didn't shy away from Leonardo's arm this time, and Raphael nodded with satisfaction.

_The less he thinks of us like some deadly wild animals, the more likely he'll treat us like real people. Too early to tell if we'll actually be able to trust him at all. He is FBI after all, _he thought ironically_. _Raphael chuckled as the memory of meeting Katherine for the first time came to mind.

"What?" Brandon spoke for the first time in several minutes.

"I was just remembering how we met your big sister at the UN."

_She freaked me out something fierce too. I couldn't believe she was with the FBI. We've sure come a long way since then._

"You met Katherine inside the United Nations?" Kelley asked.

Raphael grimaced, as he'd forgotten who was still in earshot._ Well...he already knows we're connected. _

The red-masked turtle nodded. "It was the same day the terrorists hit the UN."

"Do you make a habit of running into crumbling buildings?"

"We make a habit of bein' where we need to be," he answered vaguely, and shifted Brandon to a better position.

"I don't know why it surprises me," Kelley said, half to himself. "You act like you've done this kind of thing before."

No one chose to answer the veiled question. They carried on in silence for a couple more minutes, while smoke continued to build out of the vents. Raphael swore he could feel the temperature rising, though he chose not to say anything about it.

_There has to be a major fire above us. This whole place is gonna become an inferno - we have to get the shell out of here before we become some of the victims!_

The sound of an explosion assaulted his ears, and Raphael hit the ground with Brandon as the ceiling splintered a couple of feet ahead of them.

"_Leo_!" he yelled immediately. He was relieved to see his brother jump up off the floor, from where he'd darted out of the way.

"You guys all right, Raph?"

"Fine - we're coming around." Raphael was about to track around the wreckage, when his foot nudged an indistinct bundle in the midst of the rubble, and he realized that it was a human being. "Holy shell! Don, c'mere, quick!"

Leonardo and Kelley lingered on the side as Donatello crouched near the burned man, and checked to see if he was alive.

"He's breathing," Donatello said. "Heart rate isn't strong. Hold on a minute, guys." He dug into his bag for another oxi, and quickly set the device up before slipping it over the man's face.

The purple-masked turtle hoisted the unconscious soldier over his shoulder, and he hurried to get back to the head of the group. Raphael watched Kelley stare after him, before Leonardo took his arm to get the man moving again. Raphael's shell scraped against the wall as he ducked under the beam that was partially blocking their path, and he put on another burst of speed to keep up with everyone. Adrenaline was flowing at its peak level as he scrambled over piles of concrete and rebar, gripping Brandon tightly against his plastron so he wouldn't risk losing him.

"Raph, thanks for coming." Brandon sounded somewhat tired again.

"You sleepy, Bran? You gotta stay awake for a while longer."

"You're the _best_ friends I've ever had, and I'd rather die alone than see anything happen to you," he said more strongly.

"You're not too bad either, Bran. I'm getting a little tired of hauling your tail all over the globe though."

The man cracked a weary smile. "How many people get a brother-in-law and a bodyguard all in one package?"

"Yeah, you're pretty lucky," Raphael returned. "Stay with me, all right?"

A shout from up ahead made his blood run cold, but a cry of acclamation followed it.

"What did you find?" he heard Leonardo yell.

Raphael couldn't hear Donatello's response, but the blue-masked turtle doubled back to meet him a minute later.

"Donny and Greg think they've got a way out, but it's going to require one more rappel," Leo said.

"I think I've got that in me, how 'bout you, Fearless?" Raphael grinned.

"We don't want to take the time to deal with the harnesses. Don said the space is only large enough to handle a couple of us at a time, so we'll go down in pairs. When I left, Don was heading down with that soldier."

"What about Greg?"

"He thinks he'll be fine handling the grappling gun on his own. I'll take care of Kelley again since you've got Brandon."

"Whatever works, Leo!"

They hurried to get to the opening, and found Greg and Kelley standing by the narrow chasm.

"We can see some light coming from down there!" Greg told them. "It's leading to the street level."

"Heff, go ahead," Leonardo instructed. "We'll follow after you."

Kelley was staring at the shaft as if it spelled his certain doom, and stepped away from Leonardo when he reached for him.

"This is the way out, Director. You want to go home - this is how."

As the man hesitated, the blue-masked turtle reached out to him again. "It's going to be okay. We've come this far, and you only have to go a little bit further. Come with me, and I'll help you down."

Raphael rolled his eyes as Leonardo hovered on the edge ready to take the plunge, yet still was forced to wait for Kelley. "Shell. Leo, let him have another minute, and just take Brandon, okay? I'll handle_ him_."

Leonardo shot him a warning glance as he handed Brandon off, which Raphael promptly ignored. Once his older brother had descended out of sight, he fixed Kelley with a steely glare.

"I get that you've been through hell today, but do you wanna live, or do you wanna die? Make up your mind already, because it's time to go!"

The man nodded shakily, and Raphael turned around to watch for the flash of Leonardo's head-lamp, which was the "all-clear" signal. The red-masked turtle breathed in and out slowly as he fired his grappling hook over his head.

"Now look, man. We have to do this different than before, and it means you're going to have to face me. I've only got one arm to help you - I have to guide the cable with the other."

The man's hands were sweaty as Raphael drew his arms over his shoulders. He didn't seem to want to touch Raphael's plastron, and it made the turtle roll his eyes again. "I won't bite. Now hold on and don't let go, because I'm getting off this ledge in about five seconds."

Kelley's death grip almost choked Raphael, but the turtle decided not to fight him. He descended slowly, resting his free arm protectively around the man's back. It was difficult not to look Kelley in the eye with him in that position, but the man was avoiding his gaze.

"Not so bad, right?" Raphael asked gruffly. "You don't need to look down, but there's only a few yards to go. We're almost out of here, man. You can smile if you want to."

"When we're on the ground," Kelley returned swiftly.

Raphael picked up a little more speed as they got closer to the street level. He was already looking down when a loud rumbling overhead made him jolt on the cable. In a flash he saw shadowed debris falling, and hardly had time to tear Kelley off of him. He flung the man out of the path of the incoming missiles, and then lunged after him. There was no control in the leap, and his vision spun as he crashed to the ground. The shadow pursued him as he tried to move, and it was too late to get out of the way.

* * *

><p><strong>*Um...this would probably be the appropriate time to apologize to Raph. I don't think I ever took the time to do that.<strong>


	39. Hurt

Raphael's cry was all it took to spur Leonardo back to his feet from leaning over Brandon. The blue-masked turtle was only slightly ahead of Donatello, who was also running in that direction. Leonardo nearly stopped in his tracks when he saw the size of the broken concrete that was pinning his brother's shell to the ground. Kelley was anxiously circling Raphael, like there was some chance he'd be able to free him on his own.

Leonardo hit the ground beside his red-masked brother, but quickly backed up to make room for Donny.

"Raph! Talk to me!" Donatello demanded.

He only made a strangled sound in reply, and the purple-masked turtle swore.

"He can't breathe under this thing, Leo, we have to get it off!"

"How much do you think it weighs?"

"A lot!" Donatello went around the other side, scanning for the best position to take on the concrete.

Greg appeared around the shadowed corner to see what was going on. "Oh, God!" In a matter of seconds he was beside Leonardo.

"Maybe if we could raise it just a few inches..." Leonardo murmured.

"Then I could try and pull him out," Kelley offered, heading around front.

"It might be better if you grabbed him by the legs," Don told him.

The man shook his head. "No. They took the first impact of this thing before it crashed onto his..."

"Shell," Donatello filled in anxiously.

"Let's get this done quickly before he has more injuries to deal with. Greg, lift with your legs, this is going to be difficult." Leonardo exhaled as he jammed his shoulder under the slab. "On my count, guys."

The blue-masked turtle counted to three, before calling upon the hidden reserves of strength that most people never even realized they possessed inside themselves. He heard Greg's pained grunt, and immediately pushed harder to take more of the strain off the human. Kelley was already on the earth, scrambling to reach Raphael. Leonardo couldn't see what he was doing, but he heard the shuddering breath his brother released, and the scraping sound that accompanied Kelley dragging him.

"We're out!" Kelley's voice boomed.

"Okay," Leonardo said with clenched teeth. "On my count one more time, we're going to let go. Three. Two. One."

They simultaneously released the slab, and Leonardo had barely taken a chance to breathe before Donatello darted to Raphael, who was still face-down on the ground. Leo made sure that Greg was okay, and hurried to join his younger brother.

"Raph, are you breathing? Can you say something?" Donatello was bent near the red-masked turtle's head.

"_Yeah_," he answered under duress. "It's...uh...I can't feel my leg. That's _bad_, right?"

Leonardo looked down for the first time, and his mouth dropped. Raphael's right leg was bent at an unnatural angle, but it was far from the worst part. His left leg almost looked deformed. "Donny, did you..."

Donatello glanced over at him and nodded gravely. "We're out of the building, Raph, that's the important thing. We're all alive, and we're going to get you to help."

Leonardo came up on his prone brother's other side, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "We're here, Raph. Everything will be all right."

The blue-masked turtle noticed that Kelley appeared to be transfixed by the sight of an injured Raphael. "Director, you need to get off your feet. Heff, would you help him?"

As Greg led a reluctant looking Kelley away, Leo turned back to Donatello and motioned toward his brother's backpack. Don nodded as if he knew exactly what Leonardo was suggesting.

"Raph, I think moving is going to be extremely painful, and then the trip home..." Donatello hesitated.

"What are you asking, Don?" Raphael was already sweating heavily.

"Would you mind if I sedated you?"

"Would I _mind_? Are you crazy? What are you waiting for?"

There was no further deliberation on the purple-masked turtle's part as he smoothly injected Raphael. "Let's wait a couple of minutes before we try and do anything with him, Leo. I want to make sure he's completely out first."

"What do you think we _should_ do?" Leo asked tightly. "His legs don't look good."

"The right one definitely suffered a clean break, but the left..." Donatello didn't finish whatever he was thinking. "We've got to reach Marc. He's the expert."

"Marcus is around the corner." Greg turned back up behind them. "I just talked to him, and told him how to find us."

Leonardo was grateful and surprised in nearly equal proportions. "How did he know we needed help?"

"Mike called him and told him what we were up to. He'll be here soon."

"God bless him," Donny murmured, still staring at Raphael.

"Do we want to try and move him?" Leo asked.

"Let's just get a bit further away from the building. I don't want to take any more chances with the possibility of debris."

After Leonardo helped his brother move the red-masked turtle as carefully as possible, Don began to examine the rest of Raphael in the meantime, scanning for injuries that weren't as obvious.

Leonardo swallowed sharply, trying to settle down his racing pulse. Their complicated situation had just been jacked up to a new level of difficulty.

_What are we going to _do_? Raphael needs serious medical intervention, and we've got nowhere to do this! _Leonardo cast another glance over at the ruined building that wasn't going to last the night. He shivered as he considered the risk they were still taking in lingering closeby destruction. Leo edged closer to Donatello. "Are you finding anything else, Don?"

"It's hard to tell until we can get him off his chest. From the way he was talking, it seems like the pressure of the concrete was the only thing keeping his diaphragm from contracting. It'd be nice if he didn't have a sternal fracture to go along with everything else. I don't see any real head trauma, which is a plus."

"We have to take what we can get," Leo said morosely.

"I'm surprised he didn't pass out from the pain alone, judging from his left leg. There must have been some nerve damage involved, or his agony could have been at an all-time high."

Leonardo didn't bother asking if they should be grateful for that. About six more minutes passed before he heard Greg's voice ringing out to meet someone, and the blue-masked turtle leaped to his feet. The appearance of Marcus was like the coming of an angel.

"Are you and Donny okay?" Marc didn't mince words with a greeting.

"_We're_ fine - it's Raph who needs you!" Leonardo returned.

Even as Marcus dropped to the ground, Greg appeared around the corner of the brick again.

"Hey, that soldier you left on the oxi isn't doing well," he said urgently. "I don't think he's breathing, Don!"

The purple-masked turtle stood torn for a couple of seconds, before following Greg to help with the burn victim he'd carried out of the building. Leo approached Marc's side tentatively. The man was maintaining a stoic expression for the turtle, but he could sense the anxiety rolling off Marcus in waves.

"Has Raphael been aware of anything?" Marc asked.

"He was awake up until a few minutes ago. Don sedated him."

"That's for the best I'm sure."

"Marc...about his leg..."

"The left one?" he asked quietly. "I don't have a good feeling about it. It's probably going to need serious reconstruction."

"_How, _Marc? What are we going to do, invade the basement of a hospital?"

The man shook his head. "Luke has an idea...I talked to him a few minutes ago. Everyone is going to be converging on the apartment tonight. We need a solution quickly, especially now."

"I thought Doc was still in Triage."

"I'm going to bust him out, once all of you are settled in back at my place." Marcus cast a longing look at Raphael. "First we have to get his legs immobilized so that we can safely move him."

Leonardo caught the almost imperceptible tremor in the man's shoulders.

"There are so many things we need to do, and they all feel like they need to happen at once," Marcus lamented.

Leo shook his head. "We can only face one task at a time, Marc. Let's just work on getting Raph home first, okay?"

* * *

><p>Kelley didn't think that he was capable of being further shocked by the turtles, but the purple-masked one was proving him wrong. Donatello had rushed back along with Greg to see to the soldier, and had gotten right to work on him. He made an adjustment on part of the mask that was supposed to be helping the victim breathe, so he could help force oxygen into the man's lungs with his own breath.<p>

The turtle started CPR with a vengeance, and Kelley watched the scene bleakly for several minutes as the soldier didn't respond. The only time he glanced away was when the new doctor and Leonardo shuffled toward the waiting vehicle with the hurt turtle. Matthew cringed inwardly as Greg raced to help them.

_He probably saved my life by getting me out of the path of that concrete. He seemed more concerned about _me_ than he did himself. I'd hate to think that he might not make it, after going through all of that. _As further guilt surfaced, Matthew looked down at the ground._ He...they don't even know me, and they did everything in their power to save me._

Kelley looked over at Donatello's fight to rescue what was clearly a lost cause. _That soldier could have represented a major threat, and yet he's still compelled to save his life. Who _are_ these creatures, and why do they care this much?_

The newcomer slowly walked toward the purple-masked turtle, and reached for Donatello's shoulder. "Don. It's over," the man said gently.

"There's still a chance-"

"Donny, he's gone, and you know it. I'm sorry. You're not going to bring him back."

"But if we..."

The man crouched down closer to the earth beside him. "You can't save everyone. People die - it happens every day. His burns were too severe, Don. You did everything you could."

Donatello slumped over in his kneeling position, leaning further over the ground as the doctor got to his feet and headed in the direction of the vehicle.

Leonardo silently went over to join his brother. "Don?"

"I didn't do him any good," the turtle said weakly. "I think I only made him suffer _more_."

The blue-masked turtle reached for his arm, and pulled the other to his feet. "You did an honorable thing. You tried to save his life, Donny. Just because he died, doesn't mean you did anything wrong."

"All I could think was to get him out of that building...That he'd have a real shot. I feel so stupid."

"You're not stupid, bro," Leonardo said sternly. "Look at me. It's not the first time you've seen someone die, and it won't be the last. But you can still lay your head down at night without regret, _knowing _you did everything in your power to save him."

"Sometimes, it's not enough." The purple-masked turtle stifled a sob against his brother's shoulder.

Kelley felt like he was intruding, but he couldn't turn away from the two turtles._ It's so interesting how they work together. Donatello took a clear lead inside, and with all the medical needs...but observing Leonardo, he feels more like the true center of the group. Seeing them this way, they really _do _look like brothers. This is all so unreal. They're too fantastic to exist, and yet they're standing a few feet away from me._

Leonardo held his brother for several seconds, while Marcus returned to cover the dead soldier with a blanket.

"We have to get going, Don," Leo said. "We need to get Raph out of here."

Donatello looked slightly dazed. "I don't know what we're going to do, Leo. We don't have anywhere to treat him properly."

"We'll figure it out," he replied determinedly. "But we also have to figure out what we're doing with Brandon."

"He needs a hospital, doesn't he?" Kelley spoke up.

"It's hard to get into one," Marcus replied. "They're pretty much full. We're probably going to have to settle for a Triage."

"I know a different place," Kelley answered. "I should be able to get him in."

"That would be helpful," the doctor said slowly. "Would you be able to make sure this gentleman gets recovered too?" He motioned to soldier on the ground.

Kelley nodded. "It's the least I can do, after all that the rest of you have done."

"Then I'm going to stick with you for now," Greg announced from behind him. "I want to make sure Bran gets taken care of, and you too, Director. I'm afraid my Jeep is about two miles from here."

"Well, we've come _this_ far," Kelley replied.

"I don't mean for you to walk that distance, Sir, just to stay with Brandon while I get the car. I want the rest of the guys to clear out of here now, before Raphael starts waking up."

Kelley cast a swift glance at the turtles. "I don't understand any of this, or why...but thank you. I'm sorry your brother got hurt helping me. He didn't deserve that. I'm not going to be able to get that picture of him out of my head any time soon."

"It wasn't your fault," Leonardo told him. "The only thing we ask in return is that you keep our secret."

"I don't know anything about you, except that you exist." _And who would believe that_? he added silently. "My lips are sealed. I can guarantee I won't be telling anyone that mutant turtles rescued me from the Javits building. All I really want to do is go home to my wife and daughter. I'm not interested in ruining your way of life, whatever that might be."

"We appreciate that." The blue-masked turtle drew an arm around Donatello's back as he moved toward the car. "Heff, are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Positive, Leo. Get yourselves out of here, okay? I'll talk to you later, when I have real information about Brandon. Keep me updated on Raph too."

Kelley watched the strange figures disappear into the shadows surrounding the Avalanche, and then looked at Greg.

"Yes," Greg replied. "You just met the Mission Impossible crew."


	40. Family Meeting

Mike shifted tensely while he waited for his brothers to ascend the fire escape. He and the girls had already received word that Raphael had suffered a serious injury, and it had made the last few minutes more difficult to handle. He bit his lip as he glanced at Karina out of the corner of his eye. The woman was seated on the very edge of the couch, and one of her legs was vibrating nervously.

The entire room sat silently, waiting to hear a sound from the guest room, where the others would be entering from the balcony. Tiger rubbed her head against the orange-masked turtle's arm, and he reached over to scratch her ears fondly.

"Raphy boy is gonna be okay. You'll see," he half-whispered to the feline. "Nothing's gonna break his hard shell."

The stillness was almost unbearable for Michelangelo. He wished that someone would speak, or yell, or cry. Anything but sit here in stone silence, like they'd just learned of someone's death sentence.

Mike jerked upright in the chair when he heard a door open down the hall, and he instantly put down the footrest. His first instinct was to jump to his feet and run to his brothers, but something made him hold back from moving. Marcus was the one who emerged first into the living room, and raised a hand to solemnly greet everyone.

"We're all in safely," he announced. "Raphael is still unconscious from being sedated, and he probably will be for a while yet. Donny and I have a few things to do, but the guys have to get cleaned up first. Karina, Mike, if you want to come on back, that would be okay."

Michelangelo lightly gripped Karina's shoulder as the woman walked down the hallway, almost as if she was in a dream. He automatically held his breath as he approached the guest room, but Leonardo and Donatello came out before the two of them could open the door.

"_Guys_." One of his arms went around each of his brothers, heedless of the ash and dust that covered them. The other turtles returned the embrace fiercely.

"We're okay, Mike," Don said quietly.

"Do you need anything? Can I do something to help?" Mike asked.

Leonardo looked over his shoulder at the bronze-haired woman who'd already entered the guest room. "Just stay with Karina, Mike, and make sure she's taken care of," he replied under his breath. "Don and I need to get showered so we can focus on more pressing things, then we can catch up in a little while."

Michelangelo nodded, stepping to one side in the hall so that his brothers could get through. He walked slowly into the next room, and found Karina kneeling on the floor beside the bed where they'd laid Raphael. At first glance, it didn't look like the red-masked turtle had suffered more than a few bumps and bruises, until Mike focused on his legs. The method in which they were immobilized was familiar to him; he recalled the contraptions from Donny's own bouts with his knee injury. When he looked closer, the device couldn't hide the shape of Raphael's left leg.

Mike hovered silently behind Karina, as Marcus slipped back into the room.

"Hey," Marcus said softly. "I'm afraid I won't have a lot of information for you yet, but I'll answer questions for you guys to the best of my ability."

Karina turned to face him. "You're the orthopedic specialist, Marc. How bad is this?"

"His left leg was nearly crushed; it suffered a number of fractures. Raphael's going to need reconstructive surgery to fix this. Donny said he mentioned he couldn't feel that leg, so it's likely there's some nerve damage too."

"Surgery...You need certain conditions to perform something like that, don't you?" Karina asked. "You can't just operate here in your apartment."

"It wouldn't be in his best interest, no. We don't have the equipment _or _the drugs we need. The anesthetic agent, among other things, is absolutely necessary."

"And it's not like you can run down to the hospital and pick it all up," Mike said bitterly. With their sensitivity to conventional medications, the custom chemical creations of Donatello's and Luke's had become their safe alternatives to traditional narcotics and antibiotics.

"No," Marc said morosely. "We have a lot of pieces to assemble before we can even think about surgery."

"Is it safe to wait?" Karina asked.

"As long as the blood flow to his leg hasn't been cut off. The procedure doesn't _have_ to take place immediately, but the pain could be almost intolerable if the nerves weren't completely severed."

"Is there anything else wrong with him?" Mike asked.

"He has a couple of hairline fractures in his plastron from the concrete pinning him to the ground. If it had landed on his chest instead of his shell, this could have ended very differently. He couldn't breathe with it on top of him as it was."

Karina sighed shakily. "Will he...will he be normal again?"

Marcus nodded with a fair amount of certainty. "He's in excellent physical condition, he's young, and I'm experienced in this type of reconstruction, Karina. I've seen athletes with injuries similar to these, and I _know_ he can come back from it. It's just going to take time and a lot of hard work."

Mike hesitated before asking the next question. "How long, Marc? Do you know?"

He shook his head this time. "That's difficult to say, Mike. It will depend on how deep the fractures are, and how willing Raphael is to rest. He wouldn't be able to start the intensive therapy for weeks, at least."

"Oh, he'll rest," Karina muttered. "I'll handcuff him down if I have to."

"He'd probably enjoy that, Karina." The joke left Mike without him giving it a second thought, but then he winced for opening his mouth.

Karina cracked a smile at the turtle. "He'll be okay, Mike, I know it. I think all of us will be. It's just a matter of where we go from here. Where _do_ we go from here, Marc?"

"Luke has the possible solution, and I'd rather let him introduce it. I need to break him out of Triage tonight too."

"No you don't," Katherine mentioned from the door. "We're here."

Marc's mouth fell open slightly. "Luke wasn't supposed to move until-"

"We couldn't wait any longer, and Luke didn't want you to be forced to leave Raph. It's done now, Marc, so there's no sense in getting upset."

The man exhaled tersely. "Where's Luke?"

"He wants to see Raph..."

"That's _all_ he's going to do. Darn it, Kat, he shouldn't even be on his feet yet!"

"I know, but Tim was there to help. He gave Triage a mouthful too, if that makes you feel any better."

"Does that mean everybody's here now?" Mike asked.

"Except for Brandon and Greg," Katherine answered, and looked back at Marcus. "What do we know about Bran?"

"The scanner confirmed a broken collar bone, and he was beginning to go into shock. Between a serious drop in blood pressure and the concussion, he was pretty out of it," Marc replied. "He was stable enough from the noraphim Donatello gave him that I felt comfortable leaving him with Greg and Director Kelley. The Director says he can get him into a hospital, though I don't have a clue how."

As Marcus explained, the weariness dragging down Mike's legs became much more pronounced. He reached down to squeeze Raphael's arm, and then looked at the others. "I'm gonna check on a couple of things."

The orange-masked turtle shuffled down the hall and glanced into the living room. It was comforting to see most of their friends in one place, but the tension in the air was so tangible that he could hardly breathe.

_That's great - something new and different for me._

Mike's eyes fell on Luke sitting in the chair, and the man locked gazes with him. Luke acted like he was going to get up, and Michelangelo waved him back down.

"Don't get up just 'cause of me, Doc."

"C'mere and sit back down, Mike." Rebecca jumped up from where she was sitting on the couch, and pointed him to the spot.

"Beck, I'm fine."

"Sit and catch up, Mike. I'm going to help Calley."

"With what?"

"It's been hours since anyone has eaten, Mike."

Food didn't sound appetizing right now, but Michelangelo wasn't going to say that out loud. _Shell, I wish we could just get on with this already, but I guess we're still going to have to wait._

It was a long hour of sitting for Michelangelo, as everyone lingered on edge waiting for Marcus and Donatello to finish what they were doing. When they returned to the living room, Karina came with them.

"Hey, everybody," she said tiredly. "Whatever you decide we're doing, I'm just along for the ride. I want to stay with Raph for now."

The kitchen chairs and a couple of folding ones had already been dragged into the room to provide additional seating besides the furniture for everyone. Michelangelo felt somewhat anxious that they hadn't heard from Greg yet, but he was also _more_ than ready to get started.

Leonardo cleared his throat. "Okay, Doc. Marcus said you have a plan."

"It's not a plan, so much as it is an_ option_," Luke replied. "With what's happened to Raph and needing to move faster...well, it's the best thing that I can think of."

"Are you going to keep us in suspense, Doc?" Jen asked impatiently.

"I want to take you home with me," he answered.

"But..but your home was..." Rebecca faltered.

"Go with me here," Luke said wearily. "I'm not talking about our building that collapsed. I want to take you to North Carolina."

Donatello sat up with a jolt. "Your parents' place in the mountains?"

Luke nodded. "It's an extreme step to take, but I can't come up with anything better."

No one said a word for several seconds.

"There's plenty of room, and um...the entire third floor is already dedicated to a Lab."

"_Really_?"" The purple-masked turtle sounded more interested already.

"My parents did a lot of their research from there, Don. It won't have a lot of the equipment we need, but other chemistry elements are already in place-"

"So that all we'd need are the drug components," Donny interrupted. "It would still take an effort to get everything together."

"But at least we'd have the environment to perform surgery safely," Luke finished.

"Has this house just been sitting empty for a decade?" Tim asked.

Luke shook his head. "An old colleague of my parents, he and his wife were acting as caretakers and entrepreneurs over it. With my Mom and Dad's blessing, they were running the house as a Bed and Breakfast, up until earlier this year. The wife died, and Doctor Wells moved back to the city. I can put a call in to him and ask him to run back up there to turn the breakers on and get it ready for us."

Luke's gaze traveled to Leonardo, but the blue-masked turtle wasn't looking at him.

"I don't think any of us want to leave the city," Leonardo said finally. "But we have to accept that we don't have a choice in the matter. Are you sure about taking us to your family home, Doc?"

"You guys _are_ family. The only issue I see is the physical distance from New York, and our ability to get there without a delay. Flying wouldn't take that long, but there's still the issue of _getting _to Newark."

"We'll find a way," Tim said determinedly. "Even I have to figure out how to drive a boat myself."

Leonardo gazed around the room, and then fixed on Tim and Victoria, who were sitting side by side. "This is a difficult decision. If anyone is going to object to this course of action, we need to hear from you now."

Silence persisted across the living room.

"If you're waiting for me or Victoria to say something, you have our support, Leo," Tim replied. "You can't stay in the city. Luke said this is the best option he can think of, and I agree with him. You could rent any number of houses, but the danger of exposure is still going to exist. This place is remote, and it's already set up for you. The only thing left in my mind to figure out is getting you guys off this island."

"But..." Leonardo stopped and took a deep breath. It felt like he was waiting for someone else to speak.

"Hey, we're coming back, right?" Michelangelo forced optimism into his tone. "This isn't going to be forever."

"No, it isn't," Don agreed, and Mike noticed that his purple-masked brother's gaze was leveled on Tim and Victoria as well.

_Aw, shell...they feel bad about Calley and Jenna. They gotta feel like they're ripping them away from their parents._

Victoria smiled with all of the grace with which Michelangelo had come to associate her. "We _all _wish we could go with you, but certain pressing matters in the city don't allow us that freedom," she said wistfully. "In the face of everything happening in New York, Tim and I consider it an incredible favor for you to keep our girls safe elsewhere. We'll miss you terribly, but this is temporary. Don't any of you forget that."

"Wow. We're doing this, aren't we?" Mike murmured, unsure if everyone would even hear.

"I guess we are," Leonardo said dully, glancing at Calley on his right for the first time. The pair seemed to have an unspoken conversation with their eyes, and Mike watched Calley lay her hand on top of Leonardo's.

The blue-masked turtle's expression turned resolute. "We have to work out how we're getting off the island...and the sooner, the better."


	41. Motivation

Greg experienced a massive sense of impending doom as he leaned against the wall across from where Director Kelley was sitting. He hadn't been able to talk his boss into getting some medical attention of his own yet, but Greg had at least managed to wrangle up a chair for him. He'd followed Kelley's explicit directions to get to the temporary military installation. It wasn't a hospital in the traditional sense, but at least it was a _building_, and it possessed most of the necessary equipment that Triage didn't have.

_Having seen Triage first-hand, I have to say that this is better_, he admitted inwardly.

Greg had expected the questions to start rolling off of Kelley's tongue, but that wasn't the case yet. He eyed his Director carefully as the man hung up the phone from speaking with his wife.

"She'll probably kill me where I stand when I get home," Matthew said ruefully.

"All the more incentive to get there," Greg offered tongue-in-cheek. He was doing his best to act calm, but he felt nothing of the sort.

"It's pretty clear that there are certain things you don't want me to know," Kelley said suddenly. "I don't want to force you to tell me anything, but it would be nice to get _some _clue as to what actually happened back there."

"Sir, please don't take this personally," Greg replied quickly. "We don't want you to have to be responsible for some of this information, given the position that you hold. All of us are extremely protective of the guys anyway, so introducing them to someone new...it's a nerve-wracking process."

Kelley nodded, as if he really_ did _understand. "I'm on a 'need to know' basis, is that it?"

"That's an accurate way of putting it, yes."

"I hope you'll do me the honor of answering at least one question. What are they going to do with Raphael, the one who got hurt? How will they get him help?"

"Our team isn't without...resources. We have medical members, and we also normally have access to a Lab with all the equipment and medication that they need."

"You _normally _do?" Kelley echoed. "I wasn't trying to listen in on them, but I heard one of them say something that made it sound like they have nowhere to go."

Greg hesitated, and nodded. "Their home is in a position that's extremely vulnerable to earthquakes and aftershocks. They had to abandon it, and we don't know if it's even still standing. As their friends, we'll protect the guys to the best of our abilities, but it's simply not safe for them to be out in the open. Every moment they're in someone's apartment, they're risking discovery."

"How many times did they risk someone seeing them tonight alone?"

Greg shrugged. "In desperate times, they've never turned away from someone who needed them, Sir, no matter how great the danger. Quitting isn't in their vocabulary." He glanced down as his phone vibrated, and peeked at the display. "Excuse me, Director, but I need to take this call." He took a deep breath before he flipped the phone open. "Leo? What's going on? How's Raph?"

"In pain. Donny and Marc are doing their best to get him more comfortable. What about Bran?"

"He's resting. My Director worked him into the rotation of a temporary military base. Brandon's going to get the attention that he needs. Is everyone else together yet?"

"Yes, and we've made a decision," Leonardo said slowly.

Greg waited for him to continue without speaking.

"We're going to head down south, to Luke's old family home. The docs will have options for setting things up medically speaking, and its location is remote. The last thing I want to do is drag you away from Brandon, but..."

"You need my help," Greg filled in. "Brandon won't be alone, Leo. We'll work everything out before we leave."

"Right now the main issue is finding a boat to get us to Newark."

"You know what, Leo? Leave the boat to me. I'll find something to get you off this island if it kills me."

"That'd better be a figure of speech."

"I'll work on it, and let you know what I can come up with. We want to leave quickly, I imagine?"

"As soon as is feasible...which I don't see happening before tomorrow night."

"Get some rest, Leo. You guys have been through a lot in the last few hours."

"You were in there too, Heff."

"I'll talk to you when I have info on the boat or Brandon."

"Thanks a lot, Heff. I'll see you later."

Greg hung up the phone in slow motion, as a numb feeling spread throughout his body.

_C'mon, you expected this_, he chided himself. _You knew they were probably going to need to leave the city altogether. _Greg stared at the floor bleakly as regret coursed through his mind._ I wish it didn't have to be so far though. I'll have to stay with them for a while, and make sure they get settled with everything they need. I'd rather stick it out in North Carolina too, but I can't abandon Brandon indefinitely._

"Heffernan?" Kelley's voice drew him out of contemplation. "Are you all right?"

Greg shook his head. "Not really, no. This is one of the dozen times in my life when I've wished it were possible to split myself in two. I'm just trying to figure out a long-term goal in my mind."

"This has to do with your friends?"

Greg nodded. "Everything is complicated, as you can imagine. They're not going to be able to stay in Manhattan. They're getting ready to head out of state, and they're going to have to erect a new Lab from scratch."

"Did I hear you say something about a boat?"

"That's pretty much the only way traffic is getting off the island, isn't it? It's too bad we lost Brandon. He's the one who's comfortable around that type of vessel."

"Would something small work? How many people would it be transporting?"

"Honestly? I don't know. Any number of our members might be making the trip with them, and I haven't heard anything for sure on that front."

"Do you have an entire network of people that know about them?"

"A small one," Greg allowed.

"Finding a boat won't be nearly as difficult as keeping everyone involved safe, will it?"

He sighed wearily. "That would be correct."

"But what do you do after they're off the island? Do you drive them wherever you need to go?"

"No, in this case, we'd be flying. I've got the Gulfstream over at Newark."

"You _own_ that plane?"

"It was a group purchase." Greg was irritated with being drawn down a rabbit trail. "I can take care of them without any problem, as soon as we sneak them out of the city."

"If you went for a smaller vessel, say something that only involved one crew member like the Captain, I don't think that'd be a problem."

"Except that we don't invite people inside the circle of trust just for kicks."

"The Captain wouldn't even have to see all the passengers," Kelley countered. "Somebody like you or me comes along, tells him he's shuttling some endangered civilians. Someone could stay nearby to make sure he didn't see anyone that he isn't supposed to."

_Dang. He's thinking like one of us already._

"How soon do they need this boat?" Kelley asked briskly.

"Twenty-four hours?" Greg suggested.

"Done. I'll set it up, but I need to make something abundantly clear to you, Greg. I'm_ not _comfortable with this arrangement. I know that you're hiding things about them from me, and I can only _assume _it involves something I wouldn't be able to reconcile with. Now this isn't a threat, and I don't want you to take it the wrong way. I have no intention of going back on my word to keep their secret.

"But after this, after I help them escape the city, my hands are off. I have a family, Heffernan, and a responsibility to the oath I've sworn under the law. I can't risk being entangled in something that could threaten either one of those things."

Greg nodded casually, although his stomach was churning on the inside. "After tomorrow, you won't hear from them again, Sir. I'll personally guarantee it."

* * *

><p>Calley was weary of waiting for Leonardo to come down from the roof, and decided it was time to go after <em>him<em>. The young woman reached for a light jacket before stepping out onto the balcony and crawling to the fire escape. She climbed the metal stairs to the top level, knowing all along that the roof would still be out of her reach when she got there. As she fleetingly considered the possibility of scaling over the railing, the blue-masked turtle looked over the edge of the roof at her.

"Calley. I knew I heard someone. Stay there; I'm on my way down."

"_You_ stay, Leo. You could give me a hand up though."

He appeared a little mystified, but stretched his arm to her just the same. Calley grabbed his hand, and the turtle pulled her onto the roof beside him.

"You didn't have to come up, Calley. I've probably been up here too long already. I'm sorry, I've just been searching..."

"For peace?" she asked softly.

Leo nodded. "I haven't been able to find any."

Calley sat down inside the ledge, facing the turtle as he paced a couple of steps in front of her.

"This is different than anything I've ever felt," he said. "It seems like a part of me is dying inside, Calley. I know this is what we have to do to survive, but it still feels like we're being defeated. We're running for our lives from a force that we _can't_ fight."

"Leo, I think...it's normal to have a sense of loss and grief at a time like this. When you compound being forced to leave your home with worry over Mike, and now Raph too, it only makes it worse. I don't think you should _expect_ to feel peace over this decision. The most you can do is accept it for the temporary solution that it is, and remember that you're not abandoning them."

Leonardo's questioning gaze flicked over to her.

"The city," Calley clarified. "This isn't just about leaving home, is it, Leo? It's about honor. In 'running away', part of you feels like you're giving up New York to whatever fate might come its way."

The blue-masked turtle didn't answer immediately, but she sensed she'd struck on the true crux of the matter.

"I can't describe what it feels like to go into some place like the United Nations or the Civic Center tonight, Calley," Leo said quietly. "Where there are so many victims and hurting people...They all need help, and someone to rescue them. Could we get to them? Sure. There are countless numbers of people we could have saved, instead of going after Bran and his boss.

"Where's the salvation for the people we bypass, Calley? We climbed through an elevator shaft, directly above a car where several people were probably trapped. We didn't even have time to give them a second glance. Sometimes, I...I get this feeling like we're playing 'God,' deciding who lives and who dies. What gives us that right? Who are _we_ to choose who gets to go home to their family, and who never sees them again?"

Calley took a contemplative moment before responding. "Leo, you don't _choose_ for any of this to happen. You didn't force terrorists to plant explosives at the UN, and the earth didn't shift just because you wanted it to. For the people who lose their lives through those events, it's an incredibly tragic thing. That doesn't make any of it _your_ fault. As amazing as you are, you're still only one person. No matter how hard you try, you can't save everyone."

Leonardo looked away. "I tell myself that, Calley. I try to convince myself that our motives and intentions are in the right place, but sometimes I have to call them into question. We _are_ forced to pick and choose who we're going to save-"

"Are you saying that you should be faulted for going after one of your closest friends, when you were the only ones who even knew that Brandon and Kelley were down there?" she interrupted.

"I can't rationalize all of this," he said wearily. "I'm only telling you what's going through my mind."

Calley got to her feet, and rested her palm delicately against his cheek, drawing his face back to her. "You shoulder a weight that most people would be crushed under, Leo. You don't need to search for ways to make the burden heavier."

"I'm not," he protested.

"No? Then what do you call pushing my father to see if he would react unfavorably to us leaving?"

Leonardo sighed heavily. "It goes back to something Don told Jenna once. We wear chains that you don't have to. I just don't think it's fair to rip you away from your father and your home, without giving anyone else a choice."

"Are you listening to yourself, Leo? Home isn't strictly a location that we live in. It's wherever we're together. I love my father and Victoria with all my heart, but I made a promise to you. What's more, I couldn't bear to be separated from you." Calley paused to glance at the darkened city skyline. "When people go through something like this, it's a chance to find out what's really valuable. Luke and Kat lost everything they own, but they still have each other and Reina. They didn't lose each other, and we're not going to lose anyone either.

"Yes, the city is in upheaval, but they're getting assistance from the Army National Guard, and they won't be leaving any time soon. I don't expect you to be able to let go of the burden you feel for New York, Leo, but you can't blame yourself for the bad things that happen to people."

The blue-masked turtle's arm wound around her waist from behind, and the comfort of his touch instantly made Calley feel secure, even as the intensity of his gaze made a shiver run down her spine. Calley shifted to face him, looping her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes as he brushed fringed bangs off her forehead, and the familiarity of the gesture was powerful enough to make her forget where they were.

"How could you think I'd want to stay here without you?" she murmured.

"I never said I _wanted _you too."

"I made my choice earlier this year, and I'm sticking with it. It was the best decision I ever made," she said firmly.

Calley sensed a small shudder through his chest as she pressed her lips against his. She felt a bit breathless as he held on to the kiss more longingly than normal.

"I would have hated going without you, just for the record," he said hoarsely.

She cracked a smile. "That's nice to know, Leo, because you're not going to. It will be so much easier to face this together than it would be apart."


	42. Question of Honor

Michelangelo felt sick to his stomach as he rode in the back of Marc's Avalanche. The orange-masked turtle didn't know _how_ to feel about Kelley helping them, when the others weren't even sure how far they could trust the man.

_There's no turning back now I guess._

He glanced around the vehicle, focusing on Donny in the front passenger seat, before eyeing Leonardo beside him. They looked calm on the surface, but Mike knew his brothers well enough to sense the tension lying underneath.

A muffled whimper had him looking over his shoulder at the red-masked turtle lying in the very back of the car. Marcus was driving slowly, but even with that effort, it had been impossible to create a completely smooth ride. On an impulse Mike climbed over the seat, and squeezed onto the floor by Raphael.

His brother's eyes were closed, but the minute Mike found a new position, he opened them.

"What're you doin', Chucklehead?" Raphael's voice wasn't as strong as it normally was, but he _was_ still in there.

"Nothing - same thing I've _been_ doing, Raphy. But we have to be getting close to the harbor," he offered hopefully.

"Yeah," he agreed faintly. "You never did get through to Bran, did ya?"

Mike shook his head in frustration. "Don thinks the power to his phone died. I can't believe we're leaving, and I won't even get to talk to him first."

"Well _he's_ not going anywhere, Mikey. Brandon will be okay." Raphael sounded troubled, even as he tried to reassure him.

"That's what Heff said," Mike replied. "But he's not happy about leaving him either."

"It's hard to leave people behind, Mike, no matter-"

Even the smallest of jolts under the tires of the vehicle made Raphael cut off with a grimace. Mike reached for his hand comfortingly, and was surprised by the force with which his brother returned the grip.

"Raph, I'll tell Marc to pull over."

"No," he returned fiercely. "We have to get this over with."

"They could make this easier on you. If you're in too much pain-"

"Talking about it makes it harder not to_ think _about it, Mike. The pain meds have to come in stages to work the best, 'least that's what Doc already said." Raphael inhaled deeply, and let the breath out again. "It'll be over soon."

Mike nodded mournfully, and wished that Karina was there. The women had been gone for most of the day, trying to replace things they'd lost in the less ravaged parts of the city. That commerce was still flowing at all was amazing to Michelangelo.

_But then, everything can't stop. People still need stuff, and I'm glad they had the chance to get a few things. I wish we could have reunited sooner than this though. Karina has a way of driving every line out of Raph's face, no matter how much pain he's in._

"Is Olivia okay?" Raphael asked him.

Mike cast another look over the seat to where Olivia had been strapped in between him and Leonardo, and felt a sense of relief that the baby was asleep. It had been a rough day for the little turtle with the confusion of her mother being absent, her father being injured, and the general chaos of their world.

"Olivia's fine," he replied. "Sleeping like a log."

"Good - maybe she can stay that way for awhile. It's been hard to listen to her cry when I can't go get her."

"I know, Raph, but she _is _okay...just confused probably."

Raphael settled back into silence with slow even breaths. Mike leaned his head against the cool window as nerves assailed him all over again. He was anxious about Kelley and leaving some of their friends behind, but he was also dreading the flight. The orange-masked turtle normally loved the Gulfstream, but the docs' concern over the effect the change in air pressure could have on his lungs had ruined it for him.

"We're almost there, guys," Marc called from behind the wheel. "How's everyone holding up?"

_Meaning, how's Raph doing?_

"We're all right," Mike responded. "I think Raph's in a lot of pain though."

"_Mike_..." his brother hissed dangerously.

"We've tried to time it out to make the flight more comfortable for him, but I can start the dose early," Marcus returned.

"I'll be fine, Marc. Just get us there." Raphael achieved some power in his voice, and gave Michelangelo a dirty look at the same time.

The orange-masked turtle shrugged. "It's not like you can fake it, bro."

"I've got this, Mike," he said stiffly.

"Don't be mad at me for speaking up if you won't, Raphy. You'd do the same thing if it was one of us."

The red-masked turtle's gaze turned a little vacant. "I'm holding on the only way I know how to, Mike. I really don't want the extra attention."

Mike felt like rolling his eyes, but he resisted the urge. He knew that Raphael's pride was taking a serious hit from being this helpless, but that didn't mean he was going to watch him suffer silently. Neither of them said anything else for the next five minutes or so, until Mike realized how close they were to the Marina.

"Is everyone else here, Marc?" Leo asked.

"They're supposed to be...and I see Greg's Jeep. I'm going to pull over here, and I want you guys to stay put for a minute while I make sure that the coast is clear."

Marcus parked the Avalanche and got out to check the status on things. He was only gone for a short while before he came around back and opened the hatch. "Everything is set in place," he announced. "Greg and Kelley have the Captain sequestered at the controls, and Tim already cleared the rest of the boat. There's no other crew present, so we can go ahead and move."

* * *

><p>Leonardo was so occupied with making sure that everyone was where they needed to be, he didn't pay attention to Greg as the man hovered on the fringe of the group. The ferry was already moving, and the butterflies were still chasing each other around his stomach, even as Leo tried to reason with himself.<p>

_There's only one stranger to worry about. It's nothing at all like last night, when we were trying to blend in with an entire crowd._

Greg cleared his throat, and Leonardo suddenly realized the man was waiting on him. The blue-masked turtle trotted over to him curiously.

"What's up, Heff? I thought you were going to stay with Kelley and the Captain."

"I'm going to return to the Captain in a minute, but...Leo, my boss wants to talk to you, alone. I don't know what's in his head, and I don't like it. You don't _have_ to do this."

Leo glanced around the lower deck at the others before turning to face Greg. "We've sort of put all of our eggs into his basket, Heff. If I'm not willing to talk to him, what are we even doing here?"

"I just don't think you have to do it alone."

"Greg. I can handle him. I've been through my share of interrogations."

Greg winced. "I still don't think you should tell him anything significant, but it's your call."

Leonardo nodded as Donatello came over to join them.

"What's going on?" Don asked.

"I'm going to talk to Kelley," Leo answered. "Hold down the fort, okay?"

Donatello opened his mouth, but then appeared to change his mind. "All right, Leo. You know what you're doing."

Leonardo followed Greg up to the main deck to where Matthew Kelley was already standing against the railing. Leo automatically looked around for unfriendly eyes.

Kelley shook his head. "Your other man is with the Captain. This deck is secure, I assure you."

"Then I'll go join Tim, and um...I'll check on you guys in a little while," Greg faltered.

Leonardo gave his friend a calm smile, which the man couldn't begin to reproduce. Then he folded his arms, and silently tried to size up Director Kelley. The man had been badly shaken the night before, but the combination of the earthquake, being trapped, and the shock of meeting the turtles could have had something to do with it.

Gazing at him now, Leonardo felt like he had a better grasp on who the man's true nature. At first glance, someone could easily judge Kelley's larger-than-life personality as the sum of his existence, but the turtle detected the shrewd intelligence behind his dark eyes. While Leonardo hesitated, he had the distinct sensation that Kelley was attempting to get a read on_ him _too.

_Kelley's much more complex than he appears to be on the surface. His huge personality feels more like a cover, to offset other people from realizing how good he actually is._

Leonardo waited, but Kelley still didn't say anything. The turtle leaned against the railing, and let his eyes be drawn back to the retreating city skyline. The sense of loss permeated his spirit as he watched the lights disappear behind him. The cold breeze that whipped by him at the moment left him feeling numb and even further removed from the city.

"Do you want to sit down?" Kelley asked.

Leonardo shook his head. "No."

"Well...listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I understand that there are things you don't want to share with me...and truthfully, I'm not sure if I _want_ to know," Kelley started slowly. "But I didn't sleep last night, and I have a feeling that all of this is going to affect my working relationship with Greg and Brandon, if I don't get some closure."

He hesitated, and went on. "When Heffernan came back from Okinawa amid suspicious circumstances...I asked him what the most important thing to him was. That question has a canned answer, at least as far as an Agent is concerned: upholding the law, and a firm commitment to the oaths we've sworn. Greg wouldn't say that...his answer was 'doing the right thing.' The deviation felt intentional; like a veiled message you don't understand unless you're in on the joke. It makes sense now that I've met you. _A lot _of things make sense."

"Like what?" Leo asked cautiously.

"Hillsboro, when Luke went missing? Kidnappers got tracked down, defeated, and left behind for the cops to clean up?"

The blue-masked turtle knew he didn't have to say anything, but Kelley didn't _have_ to help them either...and he was.

"Yes," he replied before he could stop the word from coming up.

Kelley nodded. "And Dayton? You were the ones who saved Heffernan and James?"

"It was a little more complicated than that, but...yes, that was our doing too."

"What about Okinawa? Were you there with Greg and Brandon? Did you have anything to do with taking down the Akiudo?"

"We had _everything_ to do with it," Leonardo replied.

"It's obvious to me that you possess extraordinary skills. The real question I have is what are you doing with those talents on a regular basis?"

Leonardo guessed that Kelley already had some suspicions, and in that second, all he wanted was for the man to know the truth. "You've heard of the Phantoms?"

Kelley didn't bat an eye at the reference. "I've heard stories."

"Now you've met them."

The man's brow furrowed. "I see. And...your methods for dealing with criminals..."

"We're trained in the art of ninjutsu."

"Mmhm...and would you say that your activities are completely legal?"

"You know better than that," Leo said softly. "The very fact that we engage in being vigilantes means that we're breaking the law, every time we do it."

"_Why_ do you do it?" Kelley asked pointedly.

"We didn't set out to become what we have, Sir. When our father taught us ninjutsu, it was for self-defense. That's _still_ our main objective. We don't fight unless someone else initiates it. My brothers and I live under a strict code of honor, and deal with suspects accordingly. We don't use more force than necessary, and we don't take a life unless..unless we have no other choice.

"The only way I can think to explain it to you, is that we get things done that probably wouldn't happen otherwise. I can't tell you how many people we've prevented from being killed. What's the right thing in that moment, when we see someone in immediate danger? Should we just walk by and let it happen? Should we call the police, and hope that they get there in time to stop it? I don't expect you to like it, but I hope you _can_ understand why we do it."

"The lifestyle that you pursue involves walking a very fine line, Leonardo. If all citizens were allowed to take justice into their own hands, chaos and anarchy would be just around the corner. We have an imperfect legal system, but it's designed to work. I can't knowingly support your actions...even as admirable as your intentions are.

"What that means is that I can't have anything to do with you and your family. I have my _own_ family, and keeping this kind of secret from them alone...you must know how difficult that is. I'm not trying to sound cold or ungrateful, but taking a role in the lives you live could prove disastrous for the ones I love. That's a risk I can't afford to take."

"I understand," Leonardo said quietly. "You won't hear from us."

"Should you return to the city and resume your activities, I'll try to turn a blind eye. My only wish is that you'd keep a low profile to protect yourselves."

"And leave the crime fighting to the police?"

Kelley raised his hands helplessly. "According to the law I'm bound to, that's what I _have_ to tell you."

"What about you personally?" Leo asked. "If this was your choice alone, would you still want us to stop?"

"It's _not _my choice. Just...stay out of trouble if you come back."

"We'll_ be _back, Director. It's only a matter of time. Are you going to pose a threat to us?"

"You mean, am I going to hunt you down or expose you? No. This talk is only to let you know that I can't play a part in this, the way I know the others do."

"Does it change how you think of Greg or Katherine?"

"I wouldn't say...I don't know. I'm not sure how I feel about any of it - it's still digesting." Kelley sighed. "What about your brother, Raphael? Will your doctors be able to help him?"

"We have somewhere to go, but we don't have the equipment we need yet. It's going to take some time to amass everything, before they can operate. That concrete almost crushed his left leg."

Kelley winced, and Leonardo read honest concern in his eyes. "If...if your people will give me information regarding the supplier they're using, I may be able to expedite things."

Leonardo's eye ridges rose. "You'd do that? It wouldn't be aiding or abetting law-breakers?"

"He saved my life, and he deserves medical treatment. If I can help him get it, I'm going to."


	43. Flight

***We're getting ever so much closer to the true focus of Refuge, and the reason I wrote the story to begin with. Answers lie in North Carolina. Whether or not you'll like getting them, we'll have to wait and see.**

* * *

><p>Donatello swallowed back the emotion that was threatening to spill over. His wife hated crying in front of people, and the last thing he wanted to do was trigger a flood-tide on her part. The purple-masked turtle took a step backwards into the lower light in the corner of the hangar to separate himself from the others. It had been a silent ride from the harbor to the airport, and he'd dreaded arriving.<p>

Leaving members of their family behind with the devastation was hard enough, and that was without considering the possibility of further damaging aftershocks. Don had tried reasoning with Tim to join them the night before, once Brandon was well enough to fly, but it hadn't done any good. Victoria's work with the Consulate was more vital than it had ever been, and Tim felt like he had his own commitments to uphold to the NYPD.

Donatello glanced a few feet across from where he was standing, and shook his head at the sight of April embracing Marcus. He had to look away after a fleeting glimpse.

_I know why she's staying; somebody has to be there for Bran. That doesn't mean I have to like it, do I? Geesh, we should have just dragged _Brandon_ with us._

"Donny. C'mere." Jenna's lilting voice summoned him out of thought, and he looked at the raven-haired woman mutely.

He ventured over to where the young woman was standing with Victoria.

"You didn't think you were getting away without saying goodbye to me properly, did you?" Victoria was teasing him, but he didn't feel like smiling.

"I'll keep on the seismic activity," he said solemnly. "When things settle down, and we're sure we have a place to go, we'll be back."

"I know you will, and we'll see you before then," Victoria assured him. "The rest of us will come down to visit you in a matter of weeks. In the meantime, thank you for looking after my baby."

Jenna leaned against his side, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I will, Victoria. I'm sorry we have to go like this."

The woman shook her head. "I'll see you soon."

"Yes." He fought to achieve confidence in his tone.

Victoria embraced him fondly. "You're going to be fine," she said. "And we will too."

His legs felt like lead as the group shifted toward the Gulfstream. Jenna squeezed his hand reassuringly as she climbed in behind him, and he turned around to try and get an honest read on how she was feeling.

"Are you okay?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think I knew it was going to come to this. It's hard, but we'll all be together again."

Jenna averted her eyes as a couple of tears inevitably escaped, and Don's feeling of helplessness came crashing down once more.

"Donny, I'm all right," she insisted. "You can't blame a girl for getting a little emotional on a day like this. Don't you need to join Greg up front?"

"I want to check on things with Raph and Mike first. I know the docs will be back here and all, but this way I won't have to wonder what's going on without me."

"Go do that then, so we can take off before the sun comes up."

Donatello nodded, and headed down the aisle to get to Raphael first. By the heaviness of his brother's amber eyes, it was safe to assume that the first round of painkillers had already been administered.

"Hey, Raph," he greeted him.

"Hey." The red-masked turtle's voice was fuzzy. "Tell Heff to steer clear of the potholes."

"I doubt we'll run into many holes in the sky, bro. I'll see you later, okay? The docs are here, and they'll make sure you have whatever you need."

Raphael nodded, and buried his head in the pillow that was behind him.

Donatello continued another row back, where Michelangelo had settled in with Rebecca. He eyed the young woman before focusing a serious look on Mike. "You may not_ need _the supplemental oxygen, but make sure it's within your reach. I mean it, Mike, you can't play around with this."

"How long is the flight, Don?" Mike asked.

"A couple of hours. It should still be dark when we get to Asheville. Try to get some sleep."

Rebecca nodded, and gave Donatello a pointed look that communicated more than words could have. _I'm watching him._

He nodded in return and jerked his head around when he heard someone stumble. Donatello swiftly tracked over to where Marcus was guiding Luke into a seat. "Doc, are you all right?"

Luke began to nod, but Marcus gave him a sharp look.

"I've told him a dozen times already, Donny, he's not as strong as he thinks he is," Marcus replied. "He shouldn't even be out of the hospital yet."

"Triage was a far cry from a fine medical institution." Luke snorted, then shrugged. "But those people are doing the best they can with what they have to work with, so I shouldn't complain about it."

"You also shouldn't keep pushing yourself when you're that dizzy, Luke," Marc chided. "You have a serious concussion."

"I'm sitting now, aren't I?"

"And you'd better stay there, Doc," Don agreed. "If you know what's good for you anyway. You're not the only one who can be tough on people."

"Don!" Greg called down the aisle. "You comin'?"

The purple-masked turtle patted Luke's knee, and looked back at Marcus.

"I'll keep an eye on things," Marcus said automatically.

"Thanks." Donatello surveyed the cabin one last time, before trotting over to join Greg. "Okay. Let's get this show on the road."

He followed the man into the cockpit, and took his customary position in the co-pilot's chair. Just as he was fingering his headphones, Greg gave him a small smile.

"I'm going to make you handle taking off without me one of these days soon."

"Let's save that for another time, Heff. Did you finish all the pre-flight checks, or do you need some help?"

"We're ready," Greg answered, and slipped his own headphones on.

Once Donatello had his headphones in place, Greg continued.

"This flight should be no sweat. Less than 600 miles, and things look mostly clear weather-wise. I could make this jump in my sleep."

"Did anyone ever get through to Brandon?" Don asked without thinking.

Greg was suddenly fascinated by the screen in front of him, and Donatello studied his friend silently. The man was trying to sound normal, but the turtle could tell how conflicted he really felt.

_Stupid. This was the wrong time to ask him that._

"Yeah, he got through to me," Greg finally said. "He borrowed a cell off a nurse, and April will be taking a charger over to the military installation to get _his_ phone working again."

"How's he taking all of this?"

"He's not happy," Greg admitted. "But he knows we have to do it. I _hate_ leaving him."

"Well...between April, Victoria, and Tim, he'll be taken care of for sure," Don said bleakly. "You don't need to stay with our shells forever either."

"You say that like it would be a bad thing. No, I'll only be staying long enough to make sure you get outfitted with the supplies you need, and however long it takes Marcus to do this surgery for Raph. I won't go anywhere until Marc is ready to head back to the city."

Donatello sighed. "This feels so weird, splitting off in different directions."

"Tell me about it, Don. Let's not focus on it any more than we have to, all right?"

"Are you suggesting avoidance?"

"It'll work for the short term. I have a date with Lola right now, and you've got to stop distracting me so much."

"Does Sayuri know about this special relationship that you and the plane share, Heff? I think she might be disturbed."

"A man has to be allowed to have a love affair with his favorite machine. _You_ of all people ought to understand that."

Donatello surprised himself by chuckling. "I guess I'm guilty as charged."

He listened to the faint radio traffic and held his peace while Greg taxied the Gulfstream down a specified runway, preparing for takeoff. It wasn't until the plane was climbing to a cruising altitude that he spoke to the man again.

"I looked up the Blue Ridge Mountains last night, out of curiosity. It's going to take some time to get to Luke's place from Asheville, isn't it?"

"Hence the basis of its appeal, Don. Off the beaten path. That'll make it harder to transport equipment, but if we get most of the stuff at once, hopefully I can use one big truck."

"Greg?"

The sandy-haired man turned away from the crystal display to face him. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for everything. I know you say it's nothing, but it isn't. You're putting your life on hold for us."

"You guys_ are _my life. If I didn't have to get back to Bran and my job, I'd stay with you indefinitely. Marc would too."

"I feel _really_ bad about Marcus. I know he had to shuffle off a couple of patient procedures to make the time to do this."

"There are other orthopedic surgeons, Don."

"Yeah, but Marc is one of the best."

"And Raph needs him to help put his leg back together, doesn't he?"

"Yes," Donatello said quietly.

"Don't walk around acting guilty, Don. There're enough bad feelings going around without adding that one into the mix."

The turtle stifled a yawn, and reached for the thermos between their seats.

"Are you breaking into the goods already?" Greg teased. "You're such an addict."

"So I guess _you_ won't be wanting any coffee?" Donatello mock-threatened.

"That one is all yours. I've learned better than to try and share with you."

Donatello took a grateful sip of still hot liquid gold, then capped the bottle to force himself to make it last. "So what happens when we land?"

"Luke rented a mini-bus."

"I hope you're joking."

"I am, actually."

Donatello gave him a withering look.

"He got us a couple of vans to haul everyone and our stuff up into the mountains. We can go straight up the Blue Ridge Parkway."

"I'm really anxious to see this place."

"You and me both, Don. It sounds pretty amazing from his description."

"This could get really emotional for him." Donatello mused. "He hasn't been back to North Carolina since his parents died. That house holds a lot of memories. I hope he doesn't end up regretting this move."

"Don, why would he regret it? You have to stop thinking things like that."

The purple-masked turtle shook his head. "It's not easy being the ones who always require special handling, Heff."

The man rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you guys all suck. That's why we can't wait to get you out of our hair," he said sarcastically.

Donny was still formulating a reply when he noticed a call-button had been set off in the cabin. "You've got the plane, right?" he asked Greg. "You won't fall out of the sky if I leave the cockpit?"

"I don't know, Don. If we start crashing, you'll know why."

Donatello passed into the cabin, and the first thing he noticed was Marcus kneeling by Michelangelo's seat, where the orange-masked turtle was slumped forward slightly. He took a deep breath as he hurried over, and saw the lack of color in his brother's face. "What happened?"

"He passed out," Marc told him. "He's also got edema in both ankles. Have you seen this before, Donny?"

Donatello shook his head. "No, I haven't. Mike, is this the first time this has happened?"

Slowly, Mike shook his head. "No, last night was."

Marcus patted Mike's shoulder as he checked the oxi. "You're getting the extra oxygen, so you should be good for now. I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

At Marc's gesture, Donatello stepped away with him toward the front of the cabin.

"I was hoping the edema was related to the flying, Don, but that doesn't appear to be the case. We've got to get this biopsy done, and continue trying to find out what's wrong with him. I'm pretty sure this swelling is a sign that oxygen isn't circulating in his body properly."

Donatello nodded with a shaky feeling in the pit of his stomach. "We will. We'll get to the bottom of it, no matter what it takes."


	44. Doctor Wells

Luke experienced a powerful sense of deja vu as he waited in the front passenger seat of the rental van. He was on the verge of falling asleep, and it only added to the sensation that he was already inside a dream. Asheville wasn't quite home, but it was the closest civilization to it. Their first course of action after getting off the air-strip had been to find a grocery store that was open 24 hours. The women were only supposed to be getting enough food to last them for a few days; they would have to focus more on provisions the next time someone came to town, with room to spare in a vehicle.

He looked at his watch. It was pushing 6am, and they'd been on the ground for almost an hour and a half. Luke was grateful that they could kill some time inside the store, because he hadn't wanted to bust down Caleb Well's door _that _early.

_This will still be pushing it, but he's expecting us after all. I told him we'd be here at the crack of dawn._

A light knock on the window startled him, and Luke realized how close he'd been to nodding off again. He unlocked the doors for Katherine and Greg, giving the woman a sheepish smile as she slipped in the side door behind him.

"The girls are right behind me," she said. "Are you okay, Luke?"

He nodded. "I'm fine. They didn't buy _too_ much, right? All this stuff has to _fit _in the vans."

"I kept a lid on it, hon. How'd Reina do?"

Luke glanced back at the car seat where the baby hadn't so much as stirred. "Not a peep out of her."

Leonardo raised his head from the middle seat. "Not out of Mike either," he mentioned. "Are we going to head to your friend's house?"

"That's the next stop, Leo. I hate to go knocking at this hour, but I _did_ warn him."

Luke waited while the groceries were being loaded and felt anxiety growing in his chest.

_It's going to be okay, Barrows - it is. You're just going to walk up to that door real casually as if there's nothing out of the ordinary, and get those keys. No sweat._

It was hard to be certain of everything in the dark, but it was clear that the face of the town had changed in the years that he'd been gone. Certain landmarks were unmoved of course, and he felt a stirring of familiarity as Greg pulled the van through the center of Asheville.

"He's a couple of miles off this main drag," Luke told him. "Our timing is spot on."

Luke felt for the bandage on the back of his head, and carefully worked the binding loose.

_No reason to give Caleb more reason for concern than he already has._

He felt the stitches tear, regardless of how gentle he'd been.

_Oh well. I'll get Marc or Donny to fix it later._

Luke studied the address on the hand-written directions to get to Caleb's new home, then started watching street numbers. He pointed out the right one for Greg, and took a deep breath as the van stopped a couple of feet short of the driveway.

"I think this is close enough," Greg said. "Are you all right to walk?"

Luke nodded and looked over his shoulder. "Are you coming, Kat? This will feel more normal if I introduce you."

The woman reached for Reina. "She's waking up a little, Luke. Why don't we complete the picture?"

"Good idea." Luke climbed out of the van stiffly, and waited while Katherine unstrapped the baby.

The sleepy neighborhood was almost completely dark, with hardly a visible light to evidence that anyone was awake. Luke knocked on the front door, and took a step back to stand with Katherine. He shuffled nervously from one foot to the other as he waited for the door to open, and Katherine laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's going to be all right, Luke."

"I know, I know it is," he said distractedly. _But a little assurance wouldn't hurt, would it? _he thought ruefully.

There was a _click _from inside, and the door opened to reveal the familiar frame of a man with reddish-brown hair and blue eyes. Caleb's signature glasses were missing, but on closer inspection they were still hanging around his neck.

_I swear, he's barely changed. Early sixties, and hardly a grey hair in sight. Must have been all that mountain air._

"Luke, good morning," the man greeted warmly, and turned to include Katherine. "Won't you come in? It's so _good_ to see you."

Luke went inside the house, hoping his reluctance wasn't visible. As Katherine slipped in behind him, two black and white blurs raced toward them from the hall. Kat immediately side-stepped the animals, keeping Reina protectively out of reach, and the dogs ran out the open door before anyone else could react.

Caleb ducked back outside. "Molly! Noah! Come here,_ now_!"

The two dogs appeared to be having entirely too much fun to listen to him. Luke's heart caught in his chest as the animals playfully chased each other around the closest van, before pausing to bark at the vehicle.

"I'm so sorry," Caleb said. "They just get excited, and they don't obey me very well. I'll get them."

"_No_!" Luke said more insistently than he probably should have.

Caleb's brow creased in confusion, but before he could speak, Marcus and Greg were getting out of the car to go after the dogs. The older man cocked his head as they caught the barking border-collies by their collars and pulled them back to the yard.

"Did you bring an entourage with you, Luke?"

"They're friends of mine," he explained.

Caleb motioned to Greg and Marcus, inviting the men into the house."Thanks for catching those rascals; they never heed me the way they did my wife. They were _her_ dogs honestly, and I never had a real reason to discipline them. Give me just a moment to put them up, and I'll be right back."

As Caleb herded the dogs back through the hall, Luke exchanged a look with Kat.

"Its okay, Luke. Let's just make all the introductions brief, and get out of here."

Greg and Marcus nodded their agreement.

Caleb dusted off his hands as he joined them. "Okay. Now, where were we?"

"We can start over here," Luke volunteered. "This is my wife, Katherine, and our little girl, Reina."

"Pleased to meet you, Katherine. You two have a beautiful baby."

"Thank you," Kat replied. "It's nice to meet you too, Dr. Wells. I've heard good things about you from Luke."

"I can only _hope_ it was all good." Caleb grinned.

"This is our friend and pilot, Greg Heffernan," Luke continued.

"Nice to meet you." Caleb shook his hand firmly. "A pilot, huh? That sounds convenient."

"Thanks for your help getting us started down here, Dr. Wells," Greg replied.

"I'm happy to help. All of you can call me Caleb, by the way."

The older man's eyes fell on Marcus, and Luke spoke up once more. "This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Marcus Sloan."

Caleb nodded appreciatively as he shook Marc's hand. "What field are you in, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I specialize in orthopedics," Marc answered. "Luke tells us that you're a geneticist, and that you're working out of an Institute here in Asheville."

"The McKusick Genetic Institute - it's just outside town actually. Your name is familiar. You're not by any chance the same Dr. Sloan from that article in Scientific American last year, are you?"

"Well, I..." Marcus faltered, clearly embarrassed.

"The man who created the new technique for re-threading damaged ligaments?" Caleb pressed.

"Yes, he's one in the same," Luke replied for him. "We're all very proud of Marcus."

"The method sounds ingenious; I still have the article," Caleb remarked. "How many people will be saved from getting a graft now that your technique for repairing the ligament itself is out there?"

"I had a special case." Marcus shrugged. "We were fortunate that the method worked for him, and I've been integrating the technique slowly into other surgical procedures."

"You did a stint with Doctors without Borders too. Congo, wasn't it?"

Marc winced. "Yes. It didn't go exactly as planned."

"Still makes you a hero in my book. Wow, it's amazing to meet you. I'd love to have you and Luke come by the Institute."

"We'd be happy to take you up on that," Luke replied. "Unfortunately, we're running short on time right now."

"Oh, do you have to go so soon?"

"It's been a long few days, Caleb," Luke said wearily.

The man's expression instantly changed. "Oh, gosh...I'm sorry, Luke. I'm standing here chatting on like everything's normal, and it's anything but. I'm so sorry to hear about your home in New York. I've been watching some of this coverage on the earthquake, but it's hard to see. I can't picture what it would be like to experience it the way all of you have. I have the keys for you, but isn't there anything else I can do to help?"

Luke shook his head. "No, thank you. We just need to get back on the road. We have a couple of others with us that need some attention, and I'd like to get them settled in."

Caleb nodded. "Absolutely. I hope to see you again soon, Luke. It's wonderful to have you here, even if the circumstances are nothing I would have wished for. I think _Lotus Salvus _is exactly where you need to be."

"I hope it will do us all some good. Thanks again for everything." He unconsciously brushed the back of his head, which was stinging like fury.

"It's my pleasure. Please drive safely, and if there's any...Hold it, Luke, you're bleeding!"

Luke cursed himself inwardly as he covered his hand over the injury.

"Are you hurt?" Caleb asked.

Luke nodded guiltily.

"Luke, move your hand. Why on earth did you take the bandage off?" Marcus demanded.

"I was trying to avoid making a scene."

"Out of what, Luke?" Caleb asked. "Why don't you come into the bathroom, and we can get it cleaned up properly."

"He tore some stitches," Marc said flatly.

"I didn't mean to," Luke protested. "Those people in Triage barely knew what they were doing, or they wouldn't have come out that easily."

"That's no excuse, and you know it. If you'd left them alone, they probably wouldn't have come out." Marcus looked at Caleb. "Where's the bathroom, please?"

Caleb walked them back through the hall, and retrieved a couple of supplies from the medicine cabinet.

"You were in Triage?" Caleb was confused. "You failed to mention that. What happened to you?"

_I failed to mention a lot of things. That doesn't mean I'm about to open up my life story._

"I don't really remember it," Luke told him. "I was out with Reina when the earthquake occurred, and we got caught in some kind of miniature explosion. I woke up in a makeshift Triage center that had been set up in some intersection."

"Are you hurt in any other way?"

Luke couldn't see Caleb the way Marcus had his head bent over, but he answered him just the same. "There's the concussion, and I pulled some tendons in my lower back."

"Luke, you're not _driving_, are you?"

"No," he said swiftly. "But we really do need to get going."

"Why don't you take things a little more slowly?" Caleb encouraged. "If you or anyone else needs medical attention, let's do this the right way and go to the hospital."

"I appreciate your concern, and if our roles were reversed, I'd probably say the same thing to you. But there are extenuating circumstances that I can't begin to explain to you," Luke said helplessly.

"You don't have to worry, Dr. Wells," Marcus said. "I'm here for a reason. I won't let Luke overdo it."

Caleb nodded. "Well...please don't hesitate to call if you need something. You have my cell and my work number; those are the only places I hang out regularly. To be honest, work has become a bigger obsession than it was before."

Luke was momentarily overcome by the scent of hydrogen peroxide, but Marc let him raise his head. "Are you working on something in particular?"

"I've been playing with a couple of new methods for manipulating stem cells this year, with some modest success in my attempts to transfer cells from one type of organ to another. It's been pretty exciting, but the research is ongoing. I'm also experimenting with the process of transforming adult stem cells, but that's another matter altogether. I'd love to get some trials started with human subjects sometime in the next two years, but there's a lot of work to do before that can be a reality."

"I'd love to see your research, Dr. Wells-"

"You don't need to be so formal with me, Luke. You may not remember it, but I have vivid memories of being a part of your childhood. It's strange to see you all grown up this way. I don't know why I would expect you to leave as a boy, and return a man. It's probably just because these last few years have flown by so quickly.

"Many of the ideas I've been implementing in my stem cell research over this past year are based off notes and inspiration I had up on that mountain of yours. Susan used to say that house was good for the soul, and I thought she was being sentimental. I never understood the effect it had on me until I lost her."

Luke swallowed painfully. "I'm sorry for your loss, Caleb. I know that can't have been easy."

The man shook his head. "Some people don't know what they have until it's gone, and you could say that I'm one of them. Susan was the light and spark of my life. Losing her made everything else feel dull. I've thrown myself into work, partially because it's all I have now. I know it's only a temporary distraction, and the grief does have a way of sneaking back up on me. Not that I have to teach you anything about grieving, Luke."

Luke sighed. "It feels weird to be back, and I know that going home is going to be strange too. I'm glad I didn't put the house on the market though, because we need it now more than ever. Thank you for taking care of _Lotus Salvus_."

"I feel like I ought to thank _you_, for all the joy and contentment that Susan got out of it. Please don't be a stranger, Luke. Come and see me, or I'd be willing to travel back up there too."

Luke flinched, trying not to display his discomfort at the idea. "I'll be in touch, Caleb."

* * *

><p><strong>*I know what you're thinking. Another OC, really? This guy is important, so give him a chance. ;)<strong>


	45. Lotus Salvus

Michelangelo stirred, raising his head from the pillow that was propped up against the window. He opened his eyes to the sight of a green valley, dipping below the curving road they were on. Small traces of red and yellow were fixed in with the foliage, indicating that Fall was encroaching upon the mountainside. Tall slopes rose in the distance, completing the panoramic view that almost took his breath away.

The orange-masked turtle turned to look at Becky on the seat beside him. The young woman was engaged in taking furious notes on a pad of paper, and didn't appear to notice him gazing at her. "Beck?"

Rebecca was so startled she almost dropped the pad.

"What are you doing?" he asked, an amused smile creeping onto his face.

"Making lists," she answered. "All of us girls are trying to come up with individual notes of what we're going to need to finish setting up house. Then we'll compare, and come up with one Master list."

"Shell, you guys are so organized. I'm over here sleeping the day away, and you're well on your way to conquering the world."

"I wouldn't put it that way, Mikey." Rebecca managed a faint smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Still tired."

"You haven't had that much sleep. We've only been on the road for about 45 minutes."

"I'm kind of glad it isn't dark," he said. "This is pretty amazing out here."

Rebecca bobbed her head, some excitement finally bubbling over. "You can say that again. When all the leaves change, it's going to be incredible."

Becky _sounded_ like herself, but there was something slightly off in her tone. Michelangelo didn't ask about it right away, studying the way her posture was slightly hunched over. The young woman got tired like anyone else, but seeing her sit that way was a rare occurrence.

"Beck, do _you_ feel all right?" he asked softly, not wanting anyone else to hear the question. Leonardo and Calley were wrapped in blankets on the seat in front of them. They didn't appear to be waking up, but Mike didn't want to tempt fate.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she whispered back. "It's just that nauseous feeling again."

Mike cocked his head. "Again with the motion sickness? You never told me you have to deal with that."

"That's because I've never_ felt _it," she clarified.

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

Rebecca shrugged. "I've heard some people develop things like that when they get older."

"You mean now that you're entering your mid-20's?" He snorted.

"It isn't a big deal."

"If I can repeat something _you've_ said over and over, I don't think you should ignore it."

"Why didn't I know those words would come back to bite me?"

"You walked right into it, Beck." He grinned, leaning his forehead toward her.

Rebecca rested her head against his, and he felt warm and content once more.

"I'm so looking forward to falling asleep, and not worrying that an aftershock is going to kill me," she remarked.

Michelangelo backed away, surprised. "Have you been having trouble sleeping?"

"I'm shocked anyone could sleep," she said dryly. "Half of me is desperately relieved to be out of New York, and the other half..." Rebecca didn't finish the thought, as a troubled look overtook her features. "I hope everyone will be okay," she continued. "And that the city will get through this."

"It'll take more than some earthquake to do in New Yorkers," Mike said confidently, though the thought of Brandon back in that military hospital was bothering him too. He _still_ had yet to speak with the man.

"We could look at this a couple of ways," Mike said. "We could see ourselves like refugees running from some awful disaster, or we can make the most of this cool place we're going to hang out in for a while. Sensei used to say that everything we go through is an opportunity to learn _something_."

Rebecca nodded. "My Mom always liked a quote by Harry Truman. He said a pessimist is someone who makes difficulties out of his opportunities, and an optimist is one who makes opportunities out of his difficulties."

"I think we're gonna be okay here, Becky. We've already got everything that we _really_ need." Mike pulled the note pad out of her hands, dropping it on the seat between them.

"You won't be saying that when you're living off canned Spam."

He chuckled softly. "That's better than_ some _things I've eaten."

"Oh _brother, _would you lay off the antelope jerky already? It was better than starving in the rainforest, wasn't it?"

Rather than responding to her, Mike cupped her chin in one hand and guided her lips toward his. Rebecca tipped her head in surrender to the orange-masked turtle and let out a contented breath as he released the kiss.

"I'm glad you're an optimist, Mikey. I'm going to try harder to be one too."

He nuzzled her cheek softly. "It's not as hard as it sounds. We're always gonna have stuff we _could_ be worried about, but you just need to change your focus. I've been thinking about Brandon like crazy, and I'd do about anything to talk to him. But on the other hand, he didn't die in the Civic Center. He got out safely and my bros did too, for the most part.

"Raph is hurt, but the docs and Donny can fix him. I _know _they can. I saw what Don went through with his knee, and Raph's situation may be different...but he's not a quitter either. He won't accept defeat any sooner than Donny did. It's easy to find some reason to be anxious - we don't even have to look for them. Worry happens automatically. The trick is to shut it off, and think about the positive stuff. That's what it all comes down to, Beck. I figured out how to be grateful for what we _do_ have a long time ago, and it makes me appreciate other things even more now."

"Like what?" she asked coyly.

Mike detected the blue-masked turtle moving on the seat in front of them. "If we're ever alone again, I'll let you know," he teased.

He was surprised when Rebecca impulsively pushed him into the window and kissed him in a way that left him feeling a little dizzy.

"What happened to the shy little 'Jungle Girl'?" Mike grinned.

"She's trying to be optimistic."

Leonardo glanced back at them, trying to hide his own smile. "You guys all right back there?"

_Translation...am _I _okay?_

"Yeah, Leo, just tired," Mike replied.

"Is anyone getting hungry?" Katherine called. "We could probably pull over and grab some things from the back."

Mike saw Rebecca shake her head, and spoke up for everyone. "I think we're cool. It's not like we have to be in here all day, right?"

"No, we're a little over half way there," Luke answered. "It'd go faster if you got some more rest."

Michelangelo leaned back against the window, but couldn't keep his eyes _closed_. The views that turned up around every corner of the winding road were practically spell-binding, not to mention the anticipation that was building with every mile.

_I can't wait to see this place. Even from Luke's description, I'm still having a hard time picturing it._

It was a good feeling to have some of the stress and anxiety of the last few days melting away, even though the thought of Raphael in the other van was enough to bring him hurtling back to earth.

_He'll be okay_, Mike thought fiercely. _He has to be. Marcus sounded confident. They just need to pull everything together, and Raph will get through this._

The orange-masked turtle drew an arm around Rebecca to pull her close, and she relaxed against his shoulder. As the miles wore on, he heard her even breathing, and didn't so much as move, lest he accidentally disturb her. Several more minutes had passed when Luke suddenly directed Greg off the Blue Ridge Parkway and onto a narrow access road.

"It's pretty hairy to get up and down this road in the middle of the winter," Luke mentioned. "We sure wouldn't want to do it very often. The Parkway itself isn't even maintained."

Mike sighed inwardly._ I guess we _are_ settling in for the long haul, huh?_

"This is the only way for a vehicle to get up to the house," Luke was saying. "It would be easy to set up some surveillance on this road, just to keep an eye out. There's no reason for anyone else to be using it."

"We'll get that set up," Greg agreed. "On the property itself too, I'd think. I imagine you get the rare hiker or adventurer up here."

"Not often," Luke replied. "There's a lot of mountain country to be covered."

"What was it you called the house again?" Calley asked.

"_Lotus Salvus_. Roughly translated from Latin, it means 'safe place', or 'refuge,'" Luke told her. "It was my parents' dream. They were in love with each other, and their work. They appreciated their privacy, and became a bit like hermits that respect.

"I've had people ask me if I think I missed out on anything because I was raised here, away from a normal city life. I'm probably kind of weird because of it, but I don't regret my childhood, or wish that my life had been different. I was happy; I loved living here. It felt like being on top of the world, partially removed from everything happening outside."

"Your parents followed you when you transferred to Med School in New York, didn't they?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, and no. It was a pivotal moment of change for all of us. As much as I appreciated the work my parents were doing, I wanted the chance to treat living, breathing patients with my own two hands. At the same time, my Mom and Dad were moving into a new phase of research, that was going to require a lot of traveling."

"The vaccines?" Rebecca filled in.

"That's right. They took several trips to Africa over the course of two years, around the same time I was finishing up my residency. I hadn't been on any of the missions. Around the time I was getting established at St. Joseph's, they were about to make another trip to Zaire. I managed to get clearance from the hospital to go with them, but another required clinical came up.

"It was only supposed to last for two weeks or so, so I decided I would take a later flight to join them. No big deal, right? Only their plane went down in the rainforest, and broke apart upon landing. There weren't any survivors, and the rest is history." Luke turned forward to face the road. "The idea of coming back to North Carolina at that time wasn't even plausible to me. I couldn't have faced the empty house. I couldn't even handle our place in Chelsea. I had to start fresh, with something completely different."

"He just didn't realize _how_ different," Mike cracked, and enjoyed the sound of Luke's laugh.

"I didn't know what I was getting into when I met April. It's ridiculous to think about how isolated I'd become to that point. I don't know what that feels like anymore," Luke joked.

"You don't know what boredom feels like either," Greg added.

"Isn't that the truth?" Luke smiled.

They were passing through heavy trees on either side of the vehicle, setting Mike into imagining about all the games they could play out here.

_If I wasn't a sickling and Raph could walk that is. Man, this stinks for him. I wish there was something I could do. I don't feel like I've been able to do much for _anyone_ lately. Still, the extra rest might be what I need to kick this bug...or whatever it is._

The van continued climbing, and the irritating sensation indicating the changing pressure twinged in his chest. The orange-masked turtle took deliberately shallow breathes that Marcus had taught him, and noticed Becky watching.

"I'm okay," he told her. "It's just a little tight."

"Yeah, that's how it _starts_," she said pointedly.

Michelangelo's attention was drawn to the front of the car as light filtered in through the windshield, and he realized they were emerging from the tree-line. "Beck, look," he urged.

"You're not going to distract me that easily."

"No, Becky, _look_."

Rebecca finally turned her head, and gasped as the house came into view.

"Wow." Leonardo whistled. "Is that _one_ house, Doc?"

Luke looked back over his shoulder. "It was several years in the making, and you could call it almost a self-contained city unto itself."

What Luke referred to as a house looked a lot more like a full scale lodge to Michelangelo. Wrap around decks added to the scale of the structure, and the mountain peak that rose behind the dwelling completed the awe factor.

"Hey, Doc. How come you wanted to leave again?" Mike asked.

The blond man shrugged. "If paradise is the only thing you know, how are you supposed to be a well-rounded person? Welcome to _Lotus Salvus_, guys."


	46. Arriving

Donatello didn't really _mean_ to stop in his tracks in the middle of the Great Room. There were several things that still needed to be carried inside, and figuring out where they were going to take Raphael was a priority too. Nevertheless, the purple-masked turtle felt as if he was suddenly rooted to that spot under the vaulted ceiling, across from wall-length windows that displayed the surroundings in all their glory.

Greg shifted a bag to his other shoulder as he came up behind Donatello. "Taking it all in?"

Don nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's...a lot _more_ than I imagined it would be."

"You can count on Doc to downplay it. For as long as you've known the guy, you _still_ don't know where his parents' money came from, do you?"

The turtle shook his head. "I think...maybe we're about to learn more about Luke's past than he's ever shared with us before. We'll have to play that by ear," he finished to himself.

Donatello winced as Karina swept by, clutching a wailing Olivia on her side. The little turtle was clinging to the woman's shirt with one hand, and grabbing for Karina's pony-tail with the other.

"I know you're hungry, _angelito_, I know," she said soothingly. "I'm going to heat your bottle up, baby, just hold on."

Donatello shook his head. It was always dangerous to let Olivia _see_ a bottle before it was actually ready for her to devour.

_Well, I'd better put myself back to work._

He walked outside into the cool mountain air that was just cold enough to prove a little uncomfortable, and headed for one of the vans where Leonardo was unloading a luggage carrier.

"Don, c'mere," Luke interrupted him before he could grab something to take inside. "Help Greg and Marc with Raph - I know where to put him and Karina."

The red-masked turtle had yet to get out of the car for a clear view of everything, and Donatello saw his brother's eyes widen in amazement as he was brought forth. "Holy _shell, _Doc. You've been holding out on us."

Luke smiled at Raphael as the other two men shifted his arms over their shoulders. "Not intentionally, Raph. I haven't had anything to do with this house in a long time. It only became 'available' a few months ago, so to speak."

Donatello couldn't help noticing the grimaces that Raphael wasn't able to hide as he helped the men carry his brother up the small slope to the porch.

"What are you doing with me?" Raphael wanted to know.

"I thought we'd try to get you settled in where you could rest," Luke suggested.

"You mean shut up like some caged animal? No, thanks. Just 'cause I'm a cripple doesn't mean I don't have a voice, or a right to know what the shell's going on around here," he complained.

"We'll take you wherever you want to go, Raph," Luke gently reassured him.

Raphael got quiet as he caught his first glimpse of the Great Room with its massive beams. "This is something else," he said under his breath.

Luke turned to glance at the large windows. "We're going to have to devise something to cover the windows with. We'll want to get on that soon."

"Cover them for _what, _Doc?" Raphael protested. "Who's gonna see us out here?"

"We're only an hour and a half from Asheville, and the access road is right off the Parkway. It's conceivable that someone could find their way up here, Raph," Luke answered.

"It's also possible that the sky could fall down around us, but that doesn't stop us from going outside," Raphael said gruffly. "We live in the dark 98% of the time, Doc. How can you possibly be thinking of boxing us in?"

"I wasn't trying to, I mean..." Luke faltered, shaking his head. "I'm only trying to protect you."

"You _are_," Don said quickly. "I think what Raph is trying to say is, the view is too amazing to block out."

The red-masked turtle rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the translation, Genius. I'll be sure to keep you around in case anyone else can't understand me."

Marcus gave Raphael a stern look. "Raph, if you're not feeling well enough to be nice to people, I think you're better off in a bedroom."

"All right, _geez_. I'm not even allowed to speak my mind anymore? If you guys would let me off somewhere in this area, it would suit me just fine."

Luke motioned toward a leather recliner, and they put him down as Karina came back into the room with a happier Olivia. Donatello saw his brother's face change from pained to hopeful in a flash.

"Kari, c'mere," his brother called. "Can I have Liv? I feel like I haven't seen the kid in two days."

Don smiled as he turned his back, listening to Raphael greet the little turtle. _And he thought he wouldn't know how to be a father._

Donatello noticed Marcus lingering nearby his brother, as Greg headed outside and Luke followed. When Donatello stepped out onto the porch after him, he had every intention of telling Luke that _he_ needed to take a load off too. The sight of his friend with an arm wrapped around one of the support columns on the porch stopped him from speaking. Luke's gaze was vacant, as if he didn't actually _see_ his surroundings.

"Doc?" Don said questioningly when a few moments had passed. "Are you all right?"

The man jerked, like he'd just realized Donatello was standing there. "Yes." His voice was far away. "It's a weird feeling, that's all. Being back here, seeing this place. After I lost my parents, I...I didn't think I'd ever have the heart to return without them."

"Do you regret bringing us here?" Don asked quietly.

"What? _No_, of course not. I'm still trying to process everything I'm feeling, so I don't know how to explain this right now. But I know this was the right thing to do, and I'm glad I had the place on hand."

Donatello nodded. "You should get off your feet, Doc. You have a head injury, and the thing with your back too. If the shoe was on the other foot-"

"Which it has been quite frequently."

"You'd want us to take it easy," Don finished. "Why don't you go hang out with Raph, and try to get him in a good mood?"

Luke groaned. "Why are you punishing _me_?"

"Olivia will take care of his mood," Karina said lightly as she passed. "He's perfectly content now."

"You hear that, Doc? You're off the hook, so go rest," Donatello ordered.

The blond doctor shuffled into the house, and Leonardo ventured over as Don descended the stairs.

"Is he okay, Don? He looked a bit lost for a minute there."

"I think he's under an onslaught of memories, Leo. I knew coming back here was going to be emotional for him, but he doesn't think it was a mistake."

The blue-masked turtle peered at the door that led to the Great Room. "Let's not press him for information, okay, Don? Whatever he chooses to tell us, he can do it at his own pace."

Leonardo jerked his leg suddenly, and Donatello realized Tiger had just missed pouncing on his brother's limb.

"Do I look like bait to you?" Leo demanded of the feline. "Get in the house, you crazy cat."

The animal ascended the steps as if she'd done it a thousand times before, her tail flicking sharply as she walked across the unfamiliar surface of the wooden planks. Donatello pursued the cat to let her into the house, and Tiger casually trotted inside.

"It won't take _her_ long to adjust," Leonardo remarked.

"I doubt it will take long for us either," Don replied. "I suppose I should go grab something, so we can finish getting everything inside."

Leonardo nodded and continued into the house. Don took one look at the size of the bag his wife was toting, and he hurried to take it from her.

"Jen, do you have to search out the heaviest thing you can find?"

The young woman flicked her black braid over her shoulder as Donatello took the bag from her. "I'm not a weakling, Donny," she replied.

"No one said you were," he answered at the speed of light, giving her a disarming smile. "You can still get your weight lifting in later, I promise. Someone's going to have to haul Raph's shell around."

She shook her head and turned back to the van to grab something else.

Donatello carried the luggage inside to a corner of the Great Room where things were being stacked temporarily, besides groceries that were being taken directly into the kitchen. He was about to go back outside when he heard the now familiar sound of Michelangelo's wheezing from around the corner. He hesitated and peered around the wall, to where the orange-masked turtle was leaning against a doorframe. Marcus was with him, walking him through a breathing exercise.

Don bit his lip, but decided not to interfere. He walked outside more slowly than before, and silently finished helping unload the vans. Once they were empty everyone gathered in the Great Room, and the purple-masked turtle marveled at how easily they fit in the space, with more room to spare.

_That's a new feeling. We're certainly not going to be tripping over each other here._

Luke looked more tired than he had a few minutes ago, but he also seemed more relaxed. "All right. There's a lot of house to show you guys, but we can take this one step at a time. The bedrooms are split up over this floor and the second one. There's another room downstairs too. We can figure out who should go where in a little while. Everything else is pretty standard, so I shouldn't have to explain much. But if there are questions-"

"Yeah, I've got one," Greg spoke up. "Didn't this place swallow you and your parents?"

Luke laughed, but it sounded forced. "My parents were planning for the future. They intended to keep this place in the family, and fill it with further generations as time went by," he allowed. "_That_ became a self-fulfilling prophecy. In any case, we weren't alone here constantly. My parents took in patients who needed rehabilitation from time to time. This house has been a refuge for many people through the years."

Leonardo raised his hand. "If I could just speak on behalf of all of us, I want to say how much we appreciate everything you've done, Doc. I feel like this is a pretty big deal, and none of us want to intrude on your personal space."

Luke shook his head. "I can't put up with all of you walking on eggshells around here. What I _really_ want is for you to make yourselves at home. I know it will take a while to settle in, and there's still the equipment we're going to have to wait on..."

"Perhaps not as long as you'd think," Greg offered. "I got an e-mail from Kelley - the booster works great up here by the way-and he already put the call out for the medical equipment we need. He said he put a rush on it, and given the source, things should come together faster than they normally could have."

"That'd be nice," Marc said. "Since that's the case, I'll go ahead and start analyzing the scans on Raph's leg, and design my battle plan."

The red-masked turtle cocked his head. "Are you going to war on my leg, Marc? I don't know if I like the sound of that."

"It's an expression, Raph," he said calmly. "Don't worry. We're not going to do anything without informing you about it first."

Raphael patted Olivia's shell as he suddenly seemed interested in the floor. "Thanks for being here, Marc. I know you gave up a lot, and...I hate that you're separated from April."

"You didn't suggest it, Raph, and you shouldn't feel guilty. April stayed behind to help Brandon. We've all got out roles, so we just have to stick together, and make the best of it," Marcus said bravely.

Luke nodded approvingly. "You said it, Marc. If everyone's up for it, I'll start the grand tour." His gaze fell on Raphael for a moment, and the red-masked turtle waved him off.

"You can leave me be with Liv. We'll hold down the fort while you're gone," Raphael said.

Donatello got up as the others were rising, and smiled at Jenna fondly as the young woman hooked an arm over his.

"You okay? You got quiet on me," she said.

"Hm? Yeah." Don joined the tail-end of the group.

"I don't think it will be that hard to make the best of this place," she murmured.

Don shook his head. "Not since we're here together."


	47. Test

***Heh, I've been waiting for this...as I'm sure you have. ;)**

* * *

><p>Rebecca was glad when the kitchen supplies had been unpacked, and she could take a breather at the table. She noticed that Karina was still familiarizing herself with the space, locating pots and pans, and checking for spices that had been carried over from the house's Bed and Breakfast days.<p>

Jenna shook her head as she closed the freezer. "This fridge is a monster. We need one like this at home; then maybe we wouldn't have to shop every five days."

"There's another ice chest outside the pantry," Calley remarked. "It makes sense. Luke said his family could get stuck up here in the winter sometimes. They had to be prepared."

"What are we in the mood for, guys?" Karina asked of no one in particular. When she didn't get an immediate answer, she looked over at Rebecca. "How about a suggestion, Becky? You haven't asked for anything in a long time. You know what we have in stock - are there any requests?"

Rebecca hesitated. "You should ask Raph, that would be better than taking _me_ up on anything. I'm just not hungry."

Karina's forehead creased. "What's the matter lately,_ hermana_? You've hardly been touching food."

Becky shrugged. "It's better than getting sick, which is what I_ feel _like doing when I eat."

"Have you talked to the docs or Donny?" Calley asked. "It seems unusual."

"It hasn't been going on that long, and I_ am _still eating," she insisted._ I'm just not enjoying it_, she added inwardly.

"But that doesn't mean someone shouldn't have a look at you," Jenna countered. "What about the motion sickness thing, or even the fact that you're tiring out faster?"

Rebecca opened her mouth to downplay it, but her mind was spinning._ I didn't realize anyone noticed me getting tired, with the exception of Mike that is._

"I've been feeling a little off since we got back from Pennsylvania, the day after Mike passed out from having that spar with Raph. That feels like ages ago, somehow. I assumed I just needed to start taking better care of myself."

"But not eating isn't the answer to that, is it?" Jenna persisted.

Rebecca was going to answer, but she was too distracted by the strange smile Karina was giving her.

"Wouldn't it be something if you were pregnant?" Karina suggested.

The question stopped Rebecca cold, and she had to admit she hadn't considered the possibility. "I don't know. Mike and I didn't...well, we weren't trying..." She stumbled as the other girls came to sit down.

"Is it possible, Becky?" Calley asked softly. "Do you remember when your last cycle was?"

Rebecca shook her head as goose bumps invaded her arms. She'd been so distracted with Mike over the last few weeks, she hadn't given it a second thought. "We weren't trying," she repeated awkwardly. "I mean, we weren't _not_ trying, it's just..."

Calley reached for her hand and squeezed it firmly. "Becky, it's going to be okay. You should get tested."

"Now that we're out in the middle of nowhere?"

"You know it isn't like that," Karina said. "All it takes is a blood test, and they can analyze your results with the hand-held scanner, the same way Luke tested _me_."

Rebecca swallowed. "I don't want to say anything to Mike yet, not without knowing for sure. He'd be ecstatic, and I don't want him getting his hopes up for nothing."

"Then you should go through Marc," Calley told her. "I think he'd have the easiest time keeping it quiet. Do you want one of us to get him?"

"No, I'm fine; I can do this. I can't just sit here anyway. I'll go find him now."

"Don't leave us hanging," Karina said impishly.

Becky smiled. "I won't."

The curly-haired woman walked into the Great Room as casually as possible, scanning all directions. Raphael was still in the recliner, but now Tiger was curled up with him, and Olivia was playing on the floor nearby with Reina. A stack of colorful plastic cups was spread out between the two girls, successfully occupying them. Rebecca stood transfixed for a moment, watching how naturally Reina interacted with the baby turtle.

_Olivia isn't unusual to her. Reina will grow up never thinking there's anything strange about her uncles or _cousins_..._Rebecca rubbed her arms as the goose bumps became more pronounced. _Is this really happening? I expected to have a baby eventually after we realized it was possible through Karina, but this all feels so sudden._

She stole another glance at the two girls. _This is such a great opportunity for the babies, especially for Liv to have someone young to play with. What a chance to stay in a place like this, where Liv and _all _the guys can roam more freely and see the sunlight._

Leonardo was sitting on the edge of the couch, a bemused smile of his own growing as he watched the young ones. Becky came up beside him, and the blue-masked turtle looked at her expectantly.

"Hey, Becky. Do you need something?"

"Actually, I'm looking for Marc. Do you know where he is by chance?"

Leo nodded. "Go down that hall to the left, and you'll probably find him in the last room at the end. I think he said he was going to start unpacking. Is everything okay?"

She smiled evenly. "Yeah, I have a question for him. I'll see you guys later."

Becky made a discreet exit, walking silently down the hall past the open door where Katherine was badgering Luke to lie down, and another empty room that had been set aside for Raphael and Karina.

_We've barely seen the whole house. It's amazing_, she thought distractedly, before focusing on her errand. The last door was closed most of the way, but not clicked shut. She knocked lightly.

"Come in." Marcus turned around to see her as she hovered in the doorway. A smile was ready on his face, but it disappeared when he saw how serious _she _looked. "Becky, what's wrong? Is this about Mike?"

"Believe it or not, no. Well, kind of. It will affect him too, depending on what the answer is."

"What answer?"

Rebecca took a deep breath, and shut the door quietly behind her. "I need your help to figure something out, and it needs to stay quiet until I know for sure."

His brow furrowed in confusion.

"I need a blood test. I've been feeling weird, just _different_ over the last couple of weeks, and something Karina said...I could be pregnant, but I don't want to say anything to Mike without knowing. Will you help me?"

Marcus exhaled before nodding. "Sure, um...I have to get the scanner. I think Luke has it, so it shouldn't be hard. Do you want to wait here? I'll only be a minute."

"Okay."

"Sit down and try to relax. This will be completely painless, and I'll have an answer for you in no time."

Marcus disappeared from the room, and Becky sat down on the end of the bed with a sigh.

_I don't know what to think about this. The timing feels off, but mostly...I think it's just overwhelming. With everything else going on, not knowing what's wrong with Mike...it feels like the wrong time. But if I _am _pregnant, we have to find a way to make it work. All life is a gift, even if it's not expected. This would put yet more to do on the docs' plates, not that they'll complain. _Rebecca could feel herself flushing from anxiety. _Why does this make me feel so nervous? We know it can work; Olivia is living proof._

She ran a hand through her hair, absent-mindedly twirling a strand around her finger. Becky tugged the curl so hard, she could feel it knotting up. The young woman looked up as Marc came back into the room.

"Got it," he announced. "Let's take a sample in the bathroom, and it won't be long before we know for sure, okay?"

Becky wordlessly followed him to the attached bathroom, and allowed the man to draw a small blood sample from her.

"You can go sit down if you want," he told her. "I'll let you know as soon as I do."

She nodded her thanks, but her stomach rolled over with increasing nerves as she perched on the bed again. A knock at the door had her jerking up straight.

"Uh...who is it?" she called tensely.

"Beck, is that you? What are you doing?" Mike called.

The young woman grimaced._ I can't very well tell him to go away, can I?_

With an inward sigh, she got to her feet. "Yes, it's me, Mike."

The orange-masked turtle opened the door. "I've been looking for you. Are you all by yourself in here?"

"No, not really. Marc is checking something for me."

Michelangelo's gaze deepened. "Are you okay? Does this have something to do with you not feeling great?"

"Yes, but everything's fine, Mike. He hasn't even found anything, he's just..." Rebecca trailed off, unsure of how to get rid of the turtle without him _realizing _she was getting rid of him.

"I'm sorry, Becky," Marcus said from the bathroom. "The scanner is giving me fits. I think I'm going to have to draw your blood agai-" The man cut off the instant he saw Michelangelo. "Uh...you um..."

"What are you testing her blood for, Marc?" Mike asked. When the doctor looked at Rebecca, the turtle did too. "Beck, what's going on?"

"I didn't want to get you excited without a good reason," she said weakly. "There's a chance that...well, one of the girls suggested that I could be pregnant. But we don't know that for sure," she added swiftly as his blue eyes widened.

"You think you're _pregnant_?"

"I don't know; that's why I'm getting a blood test."

The turtle took a deep breath before speaking again. "All right, Becky. Then let Marc take your blood again, and let's find out, huh?"

Marcus took the second round of her blood apologetically, and left them alone while he went to analyze the sample.

Michelangelo sat down on the bed, and reached for Becky's hand to draw her in to his side. "You're as white as a ghost, Beck. You need to sit down."

"I'm all right," she said faintly.

"You seem upset," he said carefully. "Is it…do you not want this?"

"It isn't that, Mikey. I'm nervous, and I feel overwhelmed. There's so much happening already, and a baby on top of everything..."

As she spoke, a vision of Mike cradling a four-day-old Olivia came to her mind unbidden. The gentleness he employed coupled with the sheer joy in his eyes had moved her tremendously. Now those same eyes were gazing at her, searching for her true reaction to the possibility of being pregnant.

"I do want to have your baby," she said quietly. "And if this is for real, I'm going to be very happy, Mike. I wasn't trying to hide it from you. I just didn't want to disappoint you."

Michelangelo shook his head firmly. "You couldn't, Becky. You_ couldn't _disappoint me. Even if we couldn't have a kid together, you wouldn't be letting me down. That's not why I love you."

She felt herself on the brink of unexpected tears. "I won't say the idea doesn't scare me. I've asked myself if I could carry a baby, even knowing that Karina pulled it off. I'm not trying to expect the worst, but I'm afraid of getting _my_ hopes up too."

"Beck..." Mike rested his forehead against hers. "No matter what happens, we'll still be there for each other. We'll get through it. You're not in this alone, and you don't need to be scared by yourself."

As hot tears coursed down her cheeks, Rebecca realized how much she_ did _want it. She clung silently to the orange-masked turtle. She was unwilling to speak the words out loud, lest some kind of evil fate hear them and deny her of the gift she wanted for Michelangelo, and yes, herself. Mike held her without saying another word either, resting a hand on the back of her head while they waited.

Rebecca heard footsteps shuffling on the hard wood, and raised her head off Mike's shoulder to glance back. Marcus was standing in the doorway that connected the bathroom to the bedroom with the scanner in hand, and an indiscernible look in his eyes.

"Well?" Mike asked breathlessly. "Do we know, or not?"

The man nodded, unable to hide a smile any longer. "It's positive."

Rebecca felt Mike shudder as he gathered her in a second time, and she saw tears in his eyes too.

"It's so unreal," she wavered. "I can't believe this whole time...Wait. How do we know how far along I am, Marc?"

"We'll be able to figure that out when we have more equipment at our disposal, which should be days rather the weeks, thanks to Director Kelley."

Mike tugged Becky's chin around to look at him. "You're happy, Becky?"

She nodded without hesitation as he wiped her tears away. "So happy, Mike. You're going to be the greatest dad."

"And you'll be an awesome mom. We're gonna make the best team _ever_."


	48. Resting

***Okay, so yeah, you all knew it was coming. It _was_ pretty obvious, to us anyway. I only have a chance for a quick release today, because my power's been out since last night. I love responding to reviews, and I'll get on those as soon as our power is restored. Wish us luck. :)**

* * *

><p>The red-masked turtle woke to the feeling of pins and needles in his left leg, that had been preceding a painful episode. The sensation almost reminded him of the beginning of a bad muscle cramp, only multiplied a hundred times over. The irresistible urge to shift positions assaulted his mind, but he couldn't move, even if he hadn't been immobilized by Marc's brace. While limited feeling had returned, the motor paralysis had persisted.<p>

He would have been grateful not to feel anything at all, but that would also suggest worse nerve damage, and the possibility of permanent injury. As it was, Marc had told him it would probably take weeks for the axons to regenerate.

_What the shell is an axon anyway? Why does it all have to be so freakin' complicated? I bet most people don't have a clue about this nerve stuff either - I can't be the only one, _he thought crossly.

His pillow was soaked in sweat, and Raphael was more uncomfortable than he could ever remember being. He was just about to stretch an arm to reach the cell phone on the table beside the bed when the door to the hall opened. The turtle raised his head a couple of inches and saw Karina.

"Hey. What time is it?" he asked.

"Early. Let me switch this for you, Raph."

He let her take the pillow so she could change the case out for him.

"Now you should lie back down. You've been so restless," she commented. "Do you feel like you've slept at all?"

"Not really." He exhaled softly as she positioned a cool rag over his forehead. "Where's Liv?" Raphael grunted as he started upright again.

"She woke up early too. Kat's giving her some strained pears. Lie down, Raph, I mean it."

"Why's Kat awake?"

"I think she's just worried about Bran. She feels guilty for leaving him."

Raphael peered at his wife from underneath the washcloth. "You feel guilty too," he asserted.

"It's hard not to, Raph, he _is _our brother."

"You could have stayed with him, Kari. Maybe you should have," he said faintly.

Karina shook her head. "I keep telling myself that he's not alone, and we'll see him again soon. If I allow myself to think about it too long, I'm liable to break down and start bawling. But I don't regret coming with you, Raph. This is where I need to be, and Olivia needs me too. I couldn't bear to think of her being exposed in the city much longer. That was one of the most stressful experiences I've ever had."

Raphael was trying to focus hard on her words to understand what she was saying, but the pain was becoming a distraction. His breathing altered unconsciously as he fought to subdue his reaction. The turtle briefly clenched his eyes shut, and when he opened them, Karina was staring on silently.

"I think it's time to get one of the docs," she said finally.

"Don't wake anyone up yet," he protested. "It's not even time for me to start the cycle over, is it?"

She acted like she didn't hear a word he said. "Sit tight, Raph. I'm going to fetch Marc."

Raphael released a shaky breath as Karina left. He hated being treated like an invalid, but he couldn't escape the fact that he was helpless to do anything for himself. When the turtle stopped to consider the months of recovery he had ahead of him, depression threatened to consume him.

_But it could have been worse - it could have, _he thought fiercely. _Marc thinks I can get over this, and that's enough for me. I'm not _losing_ my leg, it's just going to take a while to get it back. It sucks, but I'm glad I can probably be normal again. I'm getting ahead of myself, in any case. I ain't even had surgery yet._

Raphael shivered under the quilt at the thought. _They know what they're doing_, he reminded himself. _Marc's an expert, Luke's incredible, and Donny's a genius. I wish we could get it over with already._

He turned his head as he heard footsteps in the hall, and nodded as Marcus came into the room. "What's up?" he asked innocently.

The man came over to him and crouched down to his level. "Karina says you aren't sleeping. Are you experiencing much feeling in that leg?"

"Some. It's kind of a win/lose situation, huh? I don't want the nerves to be dead, but I don't wanna_ feel _this either."

Marcus nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry we can't do more for you yet."

"You act like it's your fault, Marc. It's _'cause _of you that I'm gonna walk again."

"You'd better believe it," he replied more strongly. "I'm planning the steps out, Raph. As soon as we get the equipment, we'll be ready to move forward."

The red-masked turtle took an anxious breath, and the man seemed to sense it.

"Are you nervous?" Marc asked.

"Yeah, but you guys are the best. What do I have to be worried about?"

Marcus smiled as he patted his shoulder. "Stay positive. I know it won't be easy, especially with the work that will come later, but being optimistic will do wonders for your prognosis."

"Marc, you're not planning on staying down here because of me, are you?"

The man snorted. "You're not trying to get rid of me already, are you, Raph?"

"You know what I'm getting at, Marc. You've got April back in New York, not to mention other patients that are waiting on you. I still feel bad that you had to break off other people's procedures."

Marcus shook his head. "I'm not the only orthopedic surgeon in the country, Raph...but I _am_ the only one who's a member of this family. Now, how about I fix you up with a little more meds so you can get some real rest?"

"Twist my arm," Raphael replied, then gave the man a serious look. "I don't wanna get hooked on these things. I know that Donny's always avoided the painkillers as much as he could, because he thought it was a possibility. That's not going to happen to me, is it?"

"We're staggering the medicine properly, Raph," he reassured him. "It isn't good for you to try and endure these injuries without it. I know you're tough, but this kind of pain could level _anyone_."

The turtle broke eye contact, feeling somewhat dejected. "Whatever you think, man. You know what you're doing," he mumbled.

"Hey," Marcus said softly. "You're going to make it."

"I know. If you're not here to kick my shell into gear, there're plenty more people to do it."

* * *

><p>The next time Raphael came fully awake, sunlight was beating into the room through a large set of windows. He yawned tiredly, shaking off the haze that usually accompanied the use of the painkillers. The turtle sat up slowly and felt his head spinning.<p>

_I keep forgetting what a pain in the shell these drugs are._

He rested his head on the pillow again and felt over on the night stand to retrieve his phone. Raphael hit one of the speed-dials, and waited for his brother to pick up.

"Hey, Don. Could you c'mere please?"

"Sure, Raph, I'll be right there."

Raphael snapped the phone shut and made another serious attempt to sit up. He had to settle for only turning his head in the direction of the door.

The purple-masked turtle bustled into the room. "Hi, bro. How's it going?"

"Peachy," he muttered. "I got some sleep at least, thanks to your magic juice."

"You make it sound like an illegal substance."

"The way they mess me up, that's kind of what it must be like," he joked weakly.

Don managed a real smile in return. "Everything is a tradeoff. I'm glad you got some rest. It's a good feeling for _all_ of us to have a chance to breathe, until we start thinking of home again."

"Speaking of which, I'm still wondering about Brandon. Have you heard how he's doing, Donny?"

"He had some additional internal bleeding that contributed to the shock," Don admitted. "He's in the right place to get treated at least. If he was in one of those street clinics, they wouldn't have had the equipment to locate the source of the bleeding. He could have been a lot worse off."

"Are you trying to make me feel better?"

"I'm pointing out that it isn't as bad as it could have been."

_Story of our lives_, he thought silently. "Has he talked to Kat or Karina lately? They're both feeling guilty for 'abandoning' him."

Don shook his head. "I don't think there's anything Brandon _could_ say to change that, Raph. Can you imagine if we'd had to leave one another? Is there something I could say that would have made_ you _feel better about leaving me behind?"

"No, there isn't," Raphael said quickly. "They're just going to have to work through this, huh?"

His brother nodded. "Maybe in time, Brandon will make the trip down. No one knows how long we'll even be here yet. I don't see myself getting bored in the meantime. The Lab is a thing of beauty."

"You confident about doing surgery there?"

"It's a sterile environment, and that's the most important thing."

Raphael almost laughed. "No, the _most_ important thing is that you brilliant ones keep your heads on straight. I don't know how you deal with this stuff."

"We're good actors, Raph. Sometimes that's all it comes down to. Do you think you could eat something?"

"Maybe. I'd kind of like to get out of bed and see everyone."

"Let's take it slow, okay? I want to make sure you can sit up all right before we try moving you. Food might help to combat some of the dizziness."

"How'd you know I was dizzy?"

"It's a common side effect, Raph. If I don't know how the drugs behave, I have no business using them."

"Did you find a source for the ingredients you need to make the anesthetic?"

"Oh yeah, that's easy. I'm using the same supplier I have before to obtain the components we need, I just had to change the shipping information. It's going to go smoothly. You believe that, don't you?"

"I ain't worried about being in your hands, Genius. You've never let me die before."

"We've got a much better handle on using the anesthetic now than we did that first time around."

Raphael shook his head tersely. "I think we'd all like to forget about the first time, Don."

"It was my own fault. Doc tried to tell me that the liquid base could be unstable-"

"I'm serious, Don. Don't go there."

The purple-masked turtle closed his mouth immediately.

Raphael shifted on his arms, exerting what energy he had to sit up. He still felt like the room was about to tip off its axis, but he chose not to mention it. "Tell me about the rest of this place, Don," he said more gently. "Just in case I never get to see it."

"The third floor is dedicated to the Lab, like Doc already told us. The second floor is more private rooms, though there's also a sitting room area that leads out to another part of the deck. It's nice, Raph. Growing up in a place like this...wow. There's a walk-out basement too, with a nice set of weights and a couple of good exercise machines. They were probably part of the rehabilitation program."

"In other words, you and Leo got a place to work out. I hope you don't get bored with each other."

"You'll be working out too, Raph."

"Yeah, in a couple of _months_. That's when the real fun starts. You ought to know, right?"

"My injury was different, Raph, but I know_ you_. It won't be a picnic, but you'll do it."

The red-masked turtle let silence fall around them for a few seconds. "We're gonna be here through the winter, aren't we?"

"That's what it looks like," Donatello said apologetically, as if it was somehow _his_ fault. "I've linked into the Geological Survey that's focused on New York, and I'm monitoring the seismic activity. If things settle down sooner, we'll try to get out of here. I'm sorry I can't do any better than that."

Raphael waved off the apology. "I just wish I wasn't, you know, a complete cripple. I could have had some real fun up here. Now you and Leo get to hog it all." He was trying to jerk his brother around a little bit, but he hated the pained expression Don gave him.

"We're not going to abandon you to this room, bro," Donatello said. "We'll stick together, and find a way for you to have some fun too. This is one of the greatest opportunities we've ever had, and I'm sorry you're in this shape. I really am."

"I hope you _don't_ forget me back here," Raph said impishly. "Even Tiger's already moved on to greener pastures."

Donatello motioned for him to hold on, and looked out into the hall. Raphael heard his brother clicking his tongue softly, and Don returned with the cat a moment later.

"Your princess didn't forget about you, Raph. Cat's gotta eat sometime. No one else is going to forget about you either."


	49. Safety

Leonardo grimaced as Donatello took a third fall on the foam mat. The material wasn't as padded as the mat they used at home, but it was the closest thing to it in the finished basement on which they could work out. His purple-masked brother had been the one to suggest that they return to training on their second full day at _Lotus Salvus_. Leonardo was eager for the physical and mental release of the exercise, but now Donatello felt hopelessly distracted.

They had softened their blows even more than usual to compensate for the loss of the thicker mat, but the last sweep that had knocked Donatello off his feet still looked like it could have potentially hurt him.

"Are you all right, bro?" Leonardo began to drop into a crouch, but Donatello was already rising.

"I'm fine. Sorry - I guess I'm a little bit rusty." The attempted joke fell flat.

_More like unfocused_, Leonardo said to himself.

Leonardo had every intention of telling his brother to center his mind so that they could start the maneuver over, but something stayed his tongue. He gazed at Donatello for a long moment, studying his posture. The purple-masked turtle wasn't quick to speak up when something was bothering him, but Leonardo had gotten better at interpreting his subtle signals throughout the years. He couldn't read Donatello_ nearly _as well as Mike could, but it felt like progress nonetheless. Don's still-stiff shoulders told the blue-masked turtle that sparring wasn't providing the release for which his brother was searching, and an alternative suddenly leaped to his mind.

"I feel stifled," Leo commented. "Don't you feel it too? Do you want to get out of here?"

Donatello's brown eyes shifted to the window with an automatic flicker of uncertainty that came from years of avoiding the sunlight. His eyes softened as he looked back at Leonardo. "It wouldn't hurt to take a look around, so we can get the lay of the land. It makes sense from a tactical point of view."

Leonardo nodded seriously, though strategy wasn't his motivation for inviting him.

"We should tell someone though, don't you think?" Don suggested.

Leonardo lifted his cell off a nearby table and punched Luke's speed-dial, mentally preparing for a battle of logic if he needed to apply it.

"Leo? Are you guys doing okay down there?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, Doc, but we're restless. I think it would be a good time for us to have a look around outside."

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until it's a little darker? I mean, I'm not saying you can't, Leo. I'm just thinking out loud."

"The likelihood of running into someone isn't very great, is it? Besides, if we go now, we'll still have some of the heat of the day on our side. The longer we wait, the colder it's going to be," Leo pointed out.

"All right. If you guys can't avoid being seen _here_, there's not much hope for you anywhere."

"We won't wander more than a couple of miles. Do you have any suggestions for a direction?"

Luke thought about it for a few moments. "If you take a northeast course from the back of the house, you'll run into a path. Follow that as it curves around, and you should come across some nice sights. There are a lot of things I could show you, I'm just not quite up to it yet."

"No you're not, Doc. Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for true sight-seeing later. Don and I just need to expend some energy, and there's not a rooftop in sight," he ended lightly.

"I never understood why all of you get such a kick out of death-defying gymnastics."

"If you only knew what it was like to fly."

"I know that what goes up, must come down. Everything in between is always going to concern me."

Leonardo chuckled. "We'll be back in a little while, Doc." He tucked the phone away in his belt, and looked at Donatello expectantly. "Do you want to get going?"

Don nodded, and led the way out the back door. "Did he give you any ideas of where we could head?"

"Northeast - there's a path we can follow. We've been cooped up for a couple of days. Are you ready for a run?"

"Sounds good to me."

They trotted across the grassy knoll that preceded the tree-line, heading toward the peak that was rising in the short distance. For a few minutes they paced themselves on the dirt path, senses alive to the possibility of danger inside the new environment.

Leonardo enjoyed the rush of adrenaline and intrigue that came long with exploring a new place. Most of their experiences centered around the sewers or New York City, and while the streets could be unpredictable at times, he still had a sense of what to expect.

_Not that there's anything wrong with predictability_, he thought morosely. _I'd rather be bored to death than go through what we've had to in the last few days._

As the open air washed over his conscious mind along with the sharp scent of pine needles, he already felt like the memories of the devastation from the earthquake were fading a little bit. Leonardo shook his head. _We could lose ourselves here pretty quickly, if we let it happen. In some respects that doesn't feel like it would be a bad thing, but the danger exists that we could get _too_ comfortable._

He mulled over the thought silently, and a quiet reply came up with it.

_Would it be so wrong to be comfortable, for once in our lives? To have somewhere _truly_ safe to live, and breathe, and move freely? Just because we were raised in the dark and have lived our entire lives there, that doesn't mean it's our only fate. That's not what I want for Calley, or Olivia...or any of us. When on earth do we get to do something for ourselves, without feeling so darn guilty about it?_

Leonardo felt an ache in his chest when he sighed, and it had nothing to do with physical exhaustion. A flash of longing assaulted his heart to sit at his Master's feet, to ask for his wisdom concerning the matter that was turning over in his spirit.

_Didn't we come out here to get _rid_ of some negative energy? I feel like I'm sabotaging myself._

The blue-masked turtle glanced at Donatello for the first time in several minutes. Neither of them had spoken a word since they'd left the house. Unlike their respective hot-headed and fun-loving brothers, Don and Leo didn't require the background noise merely to function. Leonardo was content to allow the silence to continue for a while longer, as they climbed higher into the tree-line of the peak. He watched the purple-masked turtle more carefully out of the corner of his eye now. Donatello was running smoothly, as if he'd been born for this kind of terrain.

_The ability to adapt quickly to any environment is one of the greatest gifts that a rational creature can have._

Leonardo could detect the difference in the air pressure, but it didn't slow them down. As he gazed further ahead, he noticed a small break in the trees that allowed the light of day to stream in more brilliantly. He reached for Donatello's shoulder to alert him to it, and pointed in the general direction. His brother nodded, and they picked up speed to get to the partial forest clearing.

As they approached the edge of the trees, Leonardo realized that the clearing led out onto a ridge that provided another impressive overlook of the surrounding country.

"Wow." There was an immense depth to the one word Donatello spoke.

The purple-masked turtle was the first to move closer to the edge of the cliff, where he then dropped into a cross-legged position on the ground.

Leonardo brushed the light sheen of sweat from his forehead and went to sit down beside him. In their younger years the blue-masked turtle had been in the habit of misinterpreting some of his brother's complex emotional patterns. If he was being honest with himself, Leonardo still didn't fully trust his instincts regarding Donatello because of it. The silence between them felt a little cumbersome now, and he wasn't willing to allow it to continue.

"So. Where's your head today?" Leonardo forced lightness into his tone, so he would come across more brotherly and less like a drill sergeant.

Donatello glanced over, a half-smile creeping up on his face. "It's never that hard to tell with me, is it?"

Leonardo made a scoffing sound. "On the contrary, dear brother. I don't have a clue what you're thinking, and I don't want to make any assumptions."

"Just about_ life_, Leo, and time moving on," he replied quietly. "When things change at such a rapid pace, it's hard to feel secure no matter _where_ we are. I'm glad we had a safe place to run to, but it scares me at the same time."

"I think we may be on the same page, Don," Leo remarked. "I've been considering how easy it would be to get comfortable here, put down new roots..."

"But it feels wrong, doesn't it?" his brother asked.

"On the one hand it does, because we're so committed to the city that we love, the city that's our _home_. In spite of all the dangers and imposed limitations of living in an urban environment, it feels like we belong there. On the other hand, I think about our wives and Olivia...and the baby that Mike and Becky are going to have, and I hate the thought of them being stuck underground forever. I ask myself if it's time for us to pursue a more solitary existence, to stay in a place like this, where we could be free."

Donatello's brown eyes were boring back into his. "And what do you say in response to yourself?"

Leonardo shook his head. "There's no answer, at least, not yet." He looked away from his brother's intense gaze, and focused on the tree-lined hills spread out in front of them instead. "We don't _need _all the answers right now," he continued. "I think the best thing for us to do is slow down, and let our brothers have a chance to recuperate. Things will become clearer with time. If we meditate on where we belong too much, we risk missing what's going on in the moment. Mike and Raph need us. Nothing should matter more than that...even the future question of where we're going to end up."

"I agree." Donatello's soft reply was slightly muffled by the way he rested his chin in his hands. "I'm feeling a little overwhelmed though, Leo. There are several things to get done, and Mike..."

When he didn't finish, Leo turned back to face him. "What about Mike? You can be honest with me, Don. I _need_ you to be."

"The progression with his sickness has been so slow over the last few months. It's almost felt like the ebb and flow of an ocean tide, that's crashing on the shore one minute, and receding the next. But I don't see that pattern continuing, Leo. I believe he may have taken a turn for the worse, and I don't even know _what _that might entail for him."

Leonardo steeled himself against an outward reaction even though the information made him feel shaky inside. "It won't be a long wait for the equipment we require," he said finally.

"No," Don answered. "Greg and Marc are driving back down the mountain with Karina and Jen tonight. They're going to work on getting the truck and some other provisions together that we need for the house. The medical pieces we need are supposed to be in Asheville by 10am tomorrow."

"And the ingredients you need for the drugs?"

"I told you how much I paid for the rush shipping. If they're not dropped in Asheville by tomorrow afternoon, we ought to get some money back."

"Will you be making that demand in person?" Leo asked, just to see if his brother would smile. As he'd hoped, Donatello returned an impish grin.

"I have other methods of getting their attention, Leo."

"It's really not safe to get on your bad side, is it, Don?"

"Not for anyone who appreciates their servers running normally."


	50. Sympathy

***Would you look at that? We're halfway through Refuge. What on earth could be in store for the _next_ 50 chapters, you ask? The following five days will be telling. Thanks for reading, reviewing, and making this experience so gratifying for me. **

* * *

><p>Raphael's head was already on the verge of exploding, but he fought to keep his voice calm. "Using the smallest words possible, do you think you can explain what this contraption is actually for?" He'd already been moved up to the third floor earlier that morning, to prepare for what would be taking place the next day, and the dark -haired doctor was giving him a brief run-through of the procedure.<p>

Marcus nodded without the smallest sign of impatience.

_Shell, he's gotta be one of the most understanding people I know_, Raphael thought distractedly.

"The method I want to use on you is called external fixation, Raph. The purpose of the mechanism is to help hold the fractured bone segments securely in place while they're healing, providing for the best possible position."

"What are you going to do on the _inside_ tomorrow?"

"I'm going to address any scar tissue first, but the real bulk of the work will involve bringing the surface of the bone into compression by using what's called 'skinny wires'. It's almost like sewing with a needle and thread, only in this case, I'm going to be threading the wires through the opposite ends of the fractured pieces to pull them into alignment. The ends of the wires are then anchored to the external fixator using half-pins that go through the skin, and screw into the bone. The fixator will have special rings above and below the breaks, which are further stabilized by rods."

"And how long does the fixator stay on?"

"Until the fractures are healed, which could be anywhere from 3-6 months. External fixation is used as a last resort by many surgeons in the US, but that isn't the case with the rest of the world. I've seen them used with a lot of success, and I'd really like to go this extra mile with you, to make certain the bones are aligned properly. I want you to have the best possibility of returning to full mobility, and I believe this is it.

"The fixator is completely stable and self-supporting, which means you could even be walking on it in a matter of seven or eight weeks. Physical therapy will begin as soon after surgery as possible, so that you don't lose as much muscular structure," Marc finished.

The man didn't say anything else for the moment, but his expression concerned Raphael.

"What's up, Marc? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I'm staying," he said firmly. "I know you don't like it, but I'm not going to just perform the surgery and walk away from you."

"Marc, what about April? What about your _patients_?"

"April will join us in a matter of weeks. As far as other patients...in the near future, they're going to have to use someone else. I'm not going to argue about it with you, Raph. My mind is made up. Besides wanting to be here for you, we have to devise and implement the plan for Rebecca's pregnancy, and deal with Michelangelo's issues. There's a lot on Luke and Donny's plates, and we need all hands on deck. Do you _want_ me to leave the others too?"

"What I want ain't the point, Doc." Raphael suddenly felt more tired. "I'm not gonna try and talk you out of it. I want everything to be okay with Mike and Becky's kid, and I want _Mike_ to be okay."

The red-masked turtle stared at the ceiling for a good ten seconds, waiting to see if Marcus would speak. When the man said nothing, he turned to look at him. "Y'know I'm actually relieved you're here, don't you? It makes me feel safer, I just...I wouldn't wanna make that kind of demand of you."

Marcus startled him by laughing out loud. "You guys are priceless, every single one of you. It's okay for you to push yourselves to the brink and beyond, but God forbid someone else sacrifice anything for_ you_."

Raphael shrugged because he couldn't think of an argument, and Marcus went on.

"I could think of worse places to be stranded, right?"

The red-masked turtle cracked his first smile of the afternoon. "I can think of worse_ people _to be stuck with," he returned. "When are you leaving for town?"

"Not for a few hours," he answered.

"And when you come back, you'll have everything you need to do the surgery?"

Marcus nodded.

"Well, okay then. Get back here soon," he said gruffly.

There was a light knock on the door to the Lab, and Raphael saw the silhouette of one of his brothers appear when it opened. Mike shuffled into the room, and looked sheepish when his blue eyes fell on Marcus.

"Sorry, I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"I was about to head downstairs, so you have good timing, Mike." Marc's tone was normal, but Raphael noticed the hawk-eyed precision with which the man studied his youngest brother.

_Shell, I know that look by now. He must not believe this thing with Mikey is letting up any time soon._

"Did you eat?" Marcus asked Mike.

The orange-masked turtle nodded. "Cross my heart. I think Leo was looking for you, Marc."

"All the more reason to get downstairs. I'll come back up before I leave, Raph."

Raphael raised a hand as he left, and then focused on his grinning brother.

"I pity the person who thought it was a good idea to arm Karina and Jen with a credit card in a grocery store. That place is going to be out of stock on half their merchandise before those girls get done shopping," Mike joked.

"And we'll be eating like kings," Raph said slyly. "They're the ones to send, Mike, believe me."

Michelangelo dropped into the low stool that was sitting to the right of the bed. "How are you feeling, bro?"

"Okay," Raph replied. "I'm in that fantastic place where I can't feel much of the pain, but my head isn't flying off into another universe. That stage doesn't last long enough."

Mike snickered. "If your head floats off too far, I'll be sure and get it back for you, Raphy." His smile faded as he shifted his hands onto his knees. "Tomorrow's gonna be a big day for you, huh?"

"I can't wait. I wish it was today."

"Do you really?"

"Well, sure, 'cause that would mean it's already almost over." The red-masked turtle flashed him a grin, and Mike returned the smile faintly. "Have you seen anything interesting around here yet?"

"Outside, you mean? No. Leo and Don did a little sight-seeing, but they couldn't invite the infirm along with them."

Raphael peered at his brother, trying to figure out if Mike was being serious.

"All they found was a troop of missing Girl Scouts who wandered away from their camp," Mike said. "Leo volunteered to be their new leader."

Raphael rolled his eyes but also breathed an inward sigh of relief. He enjoyed hearing Mike sounding more like himself, even if he wasn't up to his old tricks. He eagerly fastened onto the familiar element of his brother's personality.

"Are they gonna make _you _their mascot?"

"Only because I told them you were unavailable."

Raphael snorted in return. "You're not gonna need to wrangle a bunch of little girls, Mikey. We're gonna be _living_ in a mad house when your kid comes along."

Mike chuckled. "That's probably true."

"If you turn both rugrats against me, I'm gonna bury your shell so far underground it'll take a week for anyone to find you."

"Sounds like fun, bro. Should I start digging a hole now and get a head start for you?"

A contented feeling alighted on Raphael's mind, causing even the pain in the background in fade in intensity. As far as they'd traveled in the last couple of days, hanging out with his brother made him feel like he was at home.

"You're just lucky I'm as nice as I am," Mike said deviously. "I could have taken major advantage of this situation."

"Right, and if _Kari_ didn't kill you, I'd finish the job 6 months from now."

Mike's smile faltered again. "Six months? Is that what Marc is saying?"

"He doesn't really know, Mike. It all depends on how the bones heal. You remember what it was like with Don, don't you, bro? It didn't keep him down forever, and it won't stop me either."

"I know," he said with a certainty. "I just need to figure out how many days I have until I can pull my next prank."

"Only if I don't get you_ first_, shell-head. I'm gonna have the sympathy of everyone on my side too, you better remember that."

Mike grinned. "I know how to get sympathy of my own. It sure hasn't been hard to lately. It's getting people _off _my shell that's the problem."

"You know they're just worried about you, Mike."

His brother shrugged, and a shadow of weariness reappeared on his face. "I can't wait for Donny or Doc to figure this out, so we can all get on with our lives."

Raphael cocked his head, hesitating. "What does it_ feel _like? This thing with your lungs, that is. Is it there all the time, or does it ever ease up?"

Michelangelo stared into space for an instant. "It's weird. I felt normal most of the time, to start with anyway. It was never too difficult to breathe unless I started coughing badly, but now..."

"Now, what?"

"Now it just happens, without any warning. It seems like it's worse at night, but that might just be because of lying down. Sleeping propped up helps, most of the time. Things like climbing a hill, walking upstairs...they're harder than they should be. I feel like I could sleep for about 20 hours a day, but who wouldn't like to do that?" he finished jokingly.

Raphael didn't see it as a laughing matter. "You're such a bonehead," he muttered, leaning his head back against the pillow. He was getting more tired too, which he didn't want to admit out loud.

_What the shell do I have to be tired for? I haven't done anything in days._

He noticed the sympathetic look he was getting from Mike's direction, and scowled in return. "Don't you be getting any ideas if I fall asleep in front of you."

"Aw, Raphy...I'm not _really_ gonna torture you. I wouldn't do that."

"I'd rather hear your fake threats than have you feeling sorry for me, Mike. You don't want the pity either, right? Let's make a pact, here and now. I won't treat you like some broken down piece of junk, if you agree not to see _me_ that way."

"Deal, Raph."

A low cry echoed from the nearby staircase, and Mike got to his feet. "It sounds like _somebody_ misses their daddy."

Raphael forgot about being tired, and braced both arms on either side of him so he could shove his way up further. He was already waiting expectantly when Karina walked through the open door with Olivia. Mike made a show of stretching and cast him a wink before he headed for the door.

"Hey, sis," he greeted Karina. "Is Liv ready for her dad to spoil her?"

"_You're_ the one who spoils the kids, Mikey." Raphael scoffed.

His brother gave him a parting smile and tapped Olivia's shell affectionately as he went by.

Raphael could feel his eyes brightening as he stared at the young woman holding his daughter. Karina's bronze hair was down, hanging in soft angular layers over her shoulders. The loose strands caressed her cheekbones in a way that made him wish he could get up and brush them aside. Karina was the _essence_ of female to him; he'd always thought so, from the first moment that he remembered meeting her.

Karina looked back at him strangely as he stared. "What is it, Raph? Are you all right?"

"'Course I am. The docs gave me enough painkillers to lay out a horse."

At her concerned expression, he shook his head. "Not seriously, Kari. What's going on with my two girls?"

Karina smiled as she held Olivia out toward the bed. "She misses her daddy."

"I miss her too. You can put her down if you want, Kari. I won't let her climb the railing or anything."

"I know you won't, Raph, I just don't want her to accidentally hurt you. You know how she is. Liv _does_ have your genes after all, and she barely knows her own strength."

Nevertheless, Karina put the baby down next to him, so Raphael could get his arms around her.

"She's gonna learn about her strength, Chica, and then she's gonna save it all so she can beat up her Uncle Mikey."

"I suppose there's little hope of her growing up in lace and tutus, is there?" Karina smiled.

Raphael rested a hand on top of the baby's head. "That's up to her, Kari. I want to make sure the girl can defend herself. If she wants to do it in a tutu, that's her business."

The young woman laughed. "That would be quite a picture."

Raphael nodded, grinning down at Olivia as she grasped her fingers over his arm. When the little turtle gripped him, he could feel the promise of the strength that was to come. As the baby's curiosity began to be drawn lower to the devices that were immobilizing his legs, Karina bent down to pick her up.

"Aw, you don't have to do that, Kari."

"I'm not going to let her have free rein near your legs, Raph. Not for a few months."

Raphael sighed heavily. "Yeah. I guess 'free rein' is off for you and me too. You have no idea what that feels like."

"What are you talking about, Tortuga?"

"Watching you day in and day out without being able to have you. I'm telling you, it's gonna be depressing."

"No one said you couldn't have me," she said quietly.

"You know what I mean. You walk around here so beautiful, and you're gonna drive me crazy."

In a swift move she bent over to kiss him, and he was engulfed in the sweet spicy scent of patchouli that reminded him so much of their wedding night.

"I'm not going to let you feel deprived, Raph."


	51. Vigil

Lightning flashed across the windowpane, briefly illuminating part of the darkened sitting room where Karina was waiting. She listened for the sound of accompanying thunder, but the rumble felt distant, still a ways off. For that she was intensely grateful, because of the fear Olivia had come to associate the sound with.

_The thunder doesn't sound like an earthquake to _me_, but she probably won't be able to tell the difference, especially since we're on the surface._

Olivia had been sheltered underground for most of her eight months of life, and the introduction of new elements on the surface had been an adjustment for her. The young one had typically been curious when encountering the new sights or sounds, but since enduring the earthquake that had shattered _all_ their lives, she'd been clingier than ever before.

_Of course she's afraid. Olivia's entire world has changed, and she doesn't understand any of it. I just don't want her to grow up tainted or nervous around the surface. Maybe we should have been introducing her to more sensations, helping her learn things at a more natural rate. Now she's been thrust into the great unknown with very little preparation._

Outside, the lightning was building; each successive flash cast shadows across the room with their intensity. Karina listened for how long it would take the thunder to catch up, and it already sounded like the storm was getting closer. The rainfall increased until it became a steady sheet that streamed down the large window like a waterfall.

The young woman wrapped a fleece blanket tighter around her chest, and watched as shadowed tree branches whipped back and forth in the force of the wind. Both of her legs were drawn up underneath her on the oversized couch, and she felt like she was sinking into the cushions. The fleeting thought crossed her mind that the storm outside could represent a bad omen, but she dismissed it as quickly as it had occurred to her.

_This is weather, not some strange cosmic interference. It has nothing to do with what's going on upstairs._

Karina had been sitting alone in the darkened room for over an hour, ever since the procedure to repair Raphael's leg had started. She'd chosen to remain there apart from clocks _and_ the others. Luke had kicked on the auxiliary power in anticipation of the weather before surgery even started, just in case there was an interruption in the electrical grid. She was slightly comforted by the fact the storm could rage however it pleased, without their current home experiencing an outage.

_"The weather can change pretty quickly, and become incredibly harrowing up on the mountainside," _he'd told her.

It had been the day from eternity for Karina, starting with grocery shopping until she dropped with Jenna in Asheville, and then making the trek back up the mountain in the large truck that contained their supplies, medical equipment, medicine, and everything else the docs needed in order to pull safe a safe surgical endeavor.

_A safe surgical endeavor? Does that even exist as far as one of the guys is concerned? Operations have enough risks on their own, even when they're not being performed in a house tucked away in the middle of nowhere._

Her confidence in the others hadn't been shaken, but the reality of possible complications had hit her very hand when they started to sedate Raphael.

_The possibilities of side effects from the anesthetic alone...But they know what they're doing. Donatello and Luke wouldn't have continued to use the same drug if they didn't have a good reason to believe in it. And I believe in _them, she added fiercely. The lightning that pulsed outside wasn't enough to distract her from the line of thought, but a thunderous crack overhead jolted her. _The storm is really moving in now. I should go check on Olivia._

As Karina climbed to her feet she heard the slow squeal of the door, and the shadow of a woman appeared at the head of the room.

"Karina?" Jenna asked tentatively. "Are you all right? Why are you in the dark?"

Karina shrugged in response. "Maybe it matches my mood."

Jenna glanced over her shoulder. "Do you want me to leave? I'd understand..."

"No, I don't have a problem with you being here, _hermana_. You're fine. I was just about to go check on Olivia though. I should have done that a while ago."

Jenna motioned for her to sit back down. "Olivia is fine; if she wasn't, Kat would have told you."

"But the storm is getting worse-"

"The girls are playing in the basement," Jenna interrupted. "Katherine knows what she's doing, but if you want to find her, that's where Olivia is."

Karina sighed softly as she looked at the door. "Maybe I'm being paranoid. She's just been so nervous since the quake."

"I'm sure it's made _you_ more nervous too," Jen pointed out. "You were separated from her when all the madness was going on. It couldn't have been easy."

Karina shook her head at the memory, sinking back into the couch cushions. "I felt like I was going to have a panic attack in the immediate aftermath. I thought I _knew_ what terror was, Jen. I mean, getting kidnapped by the Akiudo should have given me a good standard to judge by, right? This was worse. If Calley hadn't been there to take me by the hand and calm me down, I could have done something incredibly stupid."

"Like what? Headed back underground?"

Karina snorted. "That was the first thing that occurred to me. Ridiculous, huh?"

Jenna's smiled was barely visible in the shaft of light that spilled into the room from the hallway. "It's not the _best_ thing you could have done, Karina, but I wouldn't have blamed you. I don't think anyone could have. You wanted to protect your baby. I'm sure I would have felt the same way."

"You wouldn't have reacted like I did," she corrected. "I was a shaking, hysterical mess. It took Calley over fifteen minutes to talk me off the ledge. I wish I could have held it together, just a little. You're so controlled, Jen, you wouldn't have lost it like that. When disaster strikes, you don't fall apart - you act."

"Many times I act without _thinking_," Jenna said lightly. "It's gotten me into trouble before, if you recall. My way is far from flawless. Why are you getting down on yourself for being upset at a time like that? You don't_ know _how I would reacted if it was my child potentially buried in an earthquake."

"You're strong. You wouldn't have needed someone to hold your hand."

Jenna was quiet for a few seconds, and another crack of thunder filled the silence between them. "Karina, there have been many times in my life when I desperately needed someone to hold my hand," she said in a low voice. "I don't think it's a sign of weakness. And I wouldn't find it a sign of weakness for you to allow someone to support you right _now_."

Karina knew that separating herself from the others while the medical procedure was going on would feel odd to them, but it had been something she wanted to go through alone. When she didn't reply, Jenna started to get to her feet.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," she said. "I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Jen, you don't have to go, okay? I didn't want to face anyone, because I didn't want to risk the possibility of breaking down in front of them _again_. For once, I wanted to hold myself together...and if I failed, at least no one would be around to see it."

Jenna shook her head in confusion. "I need you to back up, Karina, because I don't understand what's going on here. You're talking about being weak, and comparing yourself to the rest of us, to _me_...What are you really thinking?" she asked gently.

"It's hard to explain. It's one of those things you just_ feel_, without having a rational argument behind it. I've never had control of my emotions, Jen. That's why my father was able to take advantage of me. That's why I couldn't fight back when the Akiudo took me, and why I almost had a heart attack when I thought I might have lost all of you and my baby in the earthquake. I wish I had a quarter of your strength."

"Karina...my emotional state isn't something you should be emulating. I'm messed up, y'know? Blocking emotions out, not letting people see them, it's a defense mechanism. I built it to protect myself in the foster care system, and those roots go so deep, I haven't been able to tear them out completely. When you don't _see_ the emotional reaction, it doesn't mean I'm not having one. I'm just a lot less honest about it. There is _nothing_ wrong with being authentic. I'm still fighting to get there. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"I'm only trying to make it through the next hour or so. I know Raphael will pull through this."

"I'm confident he will too, but you didn't answer my question. Why are you being so hard on yourself, Kari? Why are you suddenly trying to measure yourself against the rest of us?"

Karina looked down at the floor. "I told you, this is hard to explain. I've been thinking about my dad lately..."

"Karina, _why_? Why are you giving that man a second thought after what he did to you?"

"What I _let_ him do to me. I think that's the real point, Jen. I could have stopped him at any time, but I was too naive to see the truth in front of my face."

"Stop this," Jenna insisted. "I refuse to sit here and listen to you feel guilty for the way he took advantage of you when you needed help with the Studio. He stole it from you, Karina. _He_ did it! That makes him the bad guy, not you. What's brought these memories on?"

Karina shrugged helplessly as a tear finally escaped her eye. "I don't know. Maybe it was becoming a parent myself. Maybe I'm just thinking too much."

"The voice in your head isn't going to _stop_ telling you that you aren't good enough, Karina. You've got to start talking back to it, and shutting down the worthless talk. No matter what your father did to you, leaving when you were practically a baby, only returning to take advantage of you when you were grown, it's not a reflection of you as a person. Put things in perspective. Do you think _I'm_ worth any less because my real mother tried to murder me? The woman who gave me life tried to take it away, and almost succeeded."

"No, but this is different," Karina insisted. "I should have known better than to trust him when I was an adult, I should have-"

Jenna's arm came around her shoulders with firm but gentle pressure. "You trusted someone who proved he wasn't worthy of it. That doesn't make you an accessory to the evil things your father did."

Karina lapsed back into silence, allowing the driving rain to fill the empty air between them. Jenna kept an arm around her, and Karina finally relaxed against it. Her head came to rest on Jenna's shoulder as the minutes ticked by. She'd purposefully removed her watch so she _wouldn't_ know what time it was.

The sound of feet descending the stairs brought Karina out of her dazed state, and she started upright along with Jenna. The black-haired woman nodded toward the door, and Karina raced out to meet whoever was coming downstairs. Marcus emerged into the hallway with a weary slump in his shoulders, but threw them back the moment he saw the women.

"What's going on?" Jenna blurted out.

"He's stable. The reduction went as well as we could have hoped," Marcus said evenly.

"Is he coming around at all?" Karina asked.

"He's not very willing. Raph sounds extremely groggy, but it's safe to say he's not in a coma. All in all, everything went as planned, and we can't ask for anything more than that."

That was the instant that Karina's fragile exterior chose to crack and she gave full vent to the tears. "Thank you, Marc. Thank you for everything."


	52. Relax

The sound of running water echoed in Michelangelo's conscious mind, seeming further away than it should have been. Presently the sound grew louder, until it re-entered the atmosphere of the room in which he was sitting. The orange-masked turtle blinked in confusion, and became aware of the fact that he was on the bathroom floor and the water was running. The curtain was partially open so that a small mist was escaping from the showerhead.

He stretched his arms toward the tub to get some leverage to rise, and took a shaky breath when it felt like his legs weren't going to support him. Mike leaned over the edge to turn off the water, and remained crouched near the floor to rest for a few seconds. He wanted to give himself time to see if he could get his balance back, but things weren't improving.

Mike straightened up as far as he could and staggered to the sink, leaning heavily against the counter top. He was just examining the busted lip he'd received in the fall; when there was an urgent knock at the door.

"Hello?" he called.

"Bro, are you okay in there? We thought we heard something."

The idea of hiding what was happening didn't even occur to Mike this time. "Open the door, Leo."

He heard Leonardo's feet shift across the tile, but Mike didn't look at him immediately.

"Mike? Are you all right?"

"I need help," he said honestly. "I don't know if I can make it somewhere to sit back down."

Mike barely heard the sharp intake of air Leonardo took as he moved to assist him.

"Jen, run and get Donny, would you?" the blue-masked turtle called toward the hall.

The raven-haired woman peered inside the room quickly, before she hurried to find Donatello.

"You can relax if you want, Mike," Leo reassured him. "I've got you."

Michelangelo breathed some of the tension out of his muscles as he trusted his weight to Leonardo. The older turtle had just finished walking him around to the Great Room when Mike heard the rapid footsteps on the stairs that indicated Donatello's approach. The orange-masked turtle hardly had time to sit down before his purple-masked brother was at his side.

"What's going on, Mike?"

"Nothing, I just got real weak. I might have passed out for a couple of seconds."

Donatello's fingers carefully probed his head, searching for the possibility of injuries. "Do you remember feeling dizzy?"

"I don't know, but I'm okay now that I'm sitting down." Michelangelo accepted a wet rag that Leonardo had obtained to deal with his bleeding lip, while Donny was checking the pulse on his other wrist.

"Am I curable?" Mike offered him a smile, which Donatello was too distracted to return.

"We probably should have kept you upstairs longer," he murmured. "The procedure went smoothly, but if you're feeling dizzy-"

"Don. Chill, and look at me. Do I have a pulse, am I breathing? I just feel wiped out." Michelangelo saw Donatello's gaze track back up the stairs, and he cleared his throat sharply. "Donny, _no_. We had a deal, remember? I said you could use that ungodly instrument-"

"It's called a bronchoscope, Mikey, and it's the least invasive way that we could get to your lung tissue. Would you have preferred we go at your chest with a _needle_?"

"Whatever it was. I said go ahead, but only on the condition that your research doesn't start until tomorrow."

"Why are you making such a big deal that I wait, Mike? The results are upstairs. All I have to do-"

"All you're _going_ to do is take a load off with the rest of us and relax. One night of peace, Bro. Does that sound okay to you?"

The purple-masked turtle shrugged, and his gaze was drawn to the stairs again.

"The computer and all the doohickeys will still be up there tomorrow, Don, I guarantee it. Please? Will you do this for me, your favorite brother?"

Raphael snorted on the couch across from Mike. "Most annoying brother is more like it. He's got a point though, Genius. You brainiacs had to do a lot of hard work to get the Lab set up and fix _me_."

"That was two days ago, Raph," Donatello countered.

"One more day won't change our lives." Michelangelo gave Donny the saddest eyes he could muster, and his brother shook his head.

"You know I'm impervious to that look now."

"Are you? That gives me the chance to try out a few new ones. How's this one working on you?" Mike stuck out his lip as far as it would go, inadvertently earning a giggle from Reina, who was balancing against the coffee table. "If that doesn't work, I've got a dozen more I could pull out of my hat."

"_Or_," Leonardo said decisively. "You could go walk over to the kitchen, and take a look at what Karina and the girls have been pulling together snack-wise for the movies."

"Well...I can't be up all night, Mike. That'll completely throw me off from getting an early start," Donatello wheedled. "I kind of enjoy getting up at the same time as the sun when we have the chance to _see_ it. One movie wouldn't hurt me."

"Three," Mike argued.

"Mike, that's ridiculous."

"Not for one of our marathons, it isn't. C'mon, Donny, you _said_ you'd do it."

"I didn't want to completely sedate you just to put that stupid scope down your throat. Two movies, and that's it for me."

"I get to pick," Mike insisted with a grin. The orange-masked turtle expected to be met with a chorus of groans, and he wasn't disappointed. "I'll let the girls pick one of them, but I want..." He trailed off as Rebecca jogged into the room.

"Mike, are you okay? Jen said...You _are_ hurt."

"Not badly, Beck." He yanked the rag away from his mouth again.

"How did it happen?"

"I fell because I was dizzy, but I'm off my feet now."

"You're going to stay that way," she said threateningly.

"_Yes_, he is, because that's the only condition that I'll stay down here too," Donatello added.

"You mean I have to sit here and wait for people to serve me? That sounds like pure torture." Mike was joking, but as he cast a glance at Raphael to see the strange metal base of rods that encased his left leg, he grimaced. _Now _that's_ gotta be torture._

"When are the festivities supposed to start?" Don asked Rebecca.

"The cookies just came out of the oven, which means room is freed up for the pizzas to go_ in_," she replied, but her eyes lingered on Mike. "_Are _you really okay?"

He stretched to reach for her arm, and she allowed him to pull her over to the couch. "Yeah, Becky. I don't feel great, but I've been worse too. I'm ready to eat, if nothing else."

"I hope a lot of people are ready to eat." She finally smiled as he rested his hands of her hips.

"How are_ you _feeling?" he asked pointedly.

Her smile suddenly felt shyer in nature, and a blush crept onto her cheeks. "I'm good, Mike. Somehow all of the annoying quirks that I've been feeling over the last couple of weeks don't matter much anymore, not now that I know what's going on."

"How's the baby? Is _he_ hungry?"

Rebecca cocked her head in amusement. "You'd have to ask him, but he's_ your _kid, so the chances are pretty strong that he could eat too."

He tugged a little harder, and she bent down to his level like he'd hooked her on a fishing line. Rebecca kissed him briefly on the lips, and then straightened.

"I should help the girls finish up. Stay out of trouble, Mikey."

He smiled innocently as the young woman gave him a parting glance, then turned to Donatello. His purple-masked brother was _still _standing in the hall. "C'mon in and sit down, bro. The party starts any time now."

Reluctantly, as one led away after a sad defeat, Donatello joined them in the Great Room. The knock at the front door startled the turtles, and there was nearly a scramble for cover before Leonardo jumped to his feet.

"Greg went outside for something. Maybe he locked himself out."

When the blue-masked turtle swung the door open, it was clear the man's hands were full.

"Thanks, Leo. Do you mind giving me a hand? I brought up a couple loads of firewood."

"Fire?" Mike echoed. "No way. That would be so cool."

"The temperature has really dropped on the back end of that front," Greg told him. "It'll probably get down to the forties tonight, and Doc said we might even get freezing rain or snow tomorrow."

"Fun," Leo said distastefully. "At least we have the backup generators, right?"

"Yep. It would totally suck to lose power in a place like this. God knows how long it could take someone to get up here and fix it," Greg theorized. "Anyhow. Would you give me a hand real quick?"

Leonardo moved to retrieve one of the bundles sitting outside the door, and Donatello bent down to pick up the blond-haired baby as she toddled into Greg's path.

"Gotcha, fugitive," Don said affectionately to the little girl. He settled down in a chair with Reina in his lap, smiling as she drew her knees up underneath her and bounced lightly on his legs. "You don't know how to sit still, do you?"

"'Course she does, Genius," Raphael offered. "But the world is too interesting for her or Liv to sit back and wait for something to happen."

As the minutes wore on, the rest of their housemates migrated toward the Great Room, and the smell of homemade pizzas wafted out of the kitchen. The first movie went in not long after the food was ready. The orange-masked turtle didn't have a tremendous appetite, but he took his time and enjoyed everything he could get down.

Rebecca cuddled against his side as _Inception_ started, and he chuckled at the intensity with which she was trying to interpret the first confusing twenty minutes of the movie.

"What's with all the rioting, Mike? I have to know."

"You'll find out in a little while. Give it time to get into the story," he assured her.

She lapsed back into silence to listen to what Leonardo DiCaprio's character was saying. Mike was pleasantly surprised when the rest of the chatter died down too. Most of their movie marathons didn't dare focus on a serious movie, because they only half-watched the DVD's in between conversations. Only a couple of people present had actually _seen_ this movie though, and it was forcing everyone to settle down and listen.

Michelangelo's mind wandered slightly, and he started focusing more on the crackling sound of the fireplace in the background than the actors' dialogue. _They've been talking about doing a biopsy for so long, I'm glad it's over with. I just hope it helps somehow. I'd hate to think they were counting on that sample for answers, and still might not get any._

He brushed his hand over Rebecca's curls, and the young woman rested further against his plastron. Every time he'd looked at her in the last couple of days, he couldn't stop thinking about the baby news that had been recently delivered.

_I don't know how I'm going to wait patiently, now that I know it's happening. This is gonna be so amazing. Karina had it rough though, and I suppose Becky is gonna have to go through it too. I gotta believe she'll be okay._

Mike folded his arms protectively around her waist, as if he could somehow ease the pain of the pregnancy by his will alone. He lost track of the minutes further and was honestly close to dozing until Becky elbowed him lightly in the side.

"I thought you said this would get easier to understand," she mentioned.

Michelangelo peered at the screen and nodded. "Do you get that all three groups are inside different dreams right now?"

"What I'm not sure about is whether or not an elevator could really be forced to free fall when there isn't any gravity."

"You're over thinking it, Beck. It's just fantasy after all."

"Fantasy shouldn't have to mean unrealistic. They're the ones who set the boundaries to begin with, and they're not going to bother obeying them?"

"Hey, Beck, you're missing the movie. This part is kind of important."

"I don't _get _the movie, Mike, and something tells me I never will."


	53. Results

***Yep, you're getting this a little early because I have a long day tomorrow, and I won't be home until late evening. But I wouldn't exactly call it a favor.**

* * *

><p>Donatello calmly sipped the hot coffee, savoring the aroma that washed over him. Karina glanced at him from her work at the stove, offering Donny a slight smirk.<p>

"Did I do good, Don?"

The turtle chuckled. "It's a great blend, Karina. I heartily approve."

"I can't believe you drank the same thing for so many years. Haven't you heard that variety is the spice of life?"

"Sure I have, Karina, but with the amount of things I normally have on my plate, it's more like 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it'."

She shook her head. "You know, underneath it all, you really_ are _a typical man."

Donatello took another careful sip. "Can't fight all the genes I guess. Whatever you're doing smells really good from over here. That isn't normal ham, is it?"

Karina gave him a secretive smile. "It's Serrano; a Spanish specialty. I splurged just a little, but it's completely worth it. You'll see."

"I don't doubt that, Sis." He tried to peer around the woman as she worked at the stove with two skillets. "You didn't have to go to so much trouble just for me though."

"You're not the only early riser, _hermano_," she said affectionately, throwing a look over her shoulder at Olivia, who was happily munching cheerios in a high chair. "Besides, cooking makes me happy. It settles my mind - it always has."

The purple-masked turtle grinned. "So we find release in beating the heck out of a punching bag, and you find yours in serving someone else?"

"To each his own." Karina prepared two plates from the skillets, and set the first one in front of the turtle.

He reached for a forkful of the eggs and took a small chunk of the ham along with them. For as simple of a dish as it seemed to be, it tasted amazing. "How did you get so much flavor in these eggs?"

"It couldn't have been easier, Don, I just lightly fried up the eggs and ham in olive oil. Good ingredients don't need to be dressed up much."

"You know what you're doing, Karina, that's for sure." Donatello looked over at Olivia as the little turtle began banging on the tray of her highchair with her fists. "I think your daughter is getting jealous to try some."

"She'd probably do well with the eggs," Karina mused. "Good thing I made extra." The young woman took a couple bites of her own before she scooted over to the highchair. "Do you want to try some eggs,_ angelito_?"

Donatello smiled as he watched her feed the baby a small bite. He was a little embarrassed when Karina inadvertently caught him staring.

"What is it, Donny?" she asked curiously. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "It's just different to...It's nice to think that the kids are going to be raised the right way. I don't mean anything against my Sensei of course. We couldn't have had a better father. But when I think about Liv having a Mom _and_ a Dad, and Mikey with his kid on the way...it's a good feeling."

"I hope you get to experience it first-hand," the woman said lightly.

Donatello nodded. "I'm crossing my fingers."

Olivia banged on the tray more insistently as they talked, and Karina quickly scooped up another bite for her.

"She knows how to ask nicely, huh, Don?" Karina laughed.

"Just like her Daddy," he said mildly.

"Isn't that the truth? Go ahead and eat, Donny, don't let me hold you up. I know you have work to do."

He nodded. "Thanks, Karina."

"My pleasure, _hermano_. The way you forget to eat when you get busy, I wanted to make sure you had _one_ decent meal today."

The turtle took his time to enjoy the rest of his coffee and breakfast before thanking Karina again, and adjourning to the third floor Lab. Donatello scanned the room appreciatively, shaking his head in amazement over the space. Even with Luke's description of it, he hadn't been prepared for the scale of the room.

_It makes perfect sense though. This is where his parents worked and schooled him, where his mom designed so many drugs. _He snorted under his breath. _And history repeats itself._

Donatello took a seat in one of the rolling desk chairs behind a brand new desktop computer, and reached over to turn on the screen. He picked up his hand-held scanner, and depressed the button to turn it on as well.

_I hope this biopsy can serve a true purpose. The question of where we go from here if this doesn't turn up anything is a big one. _The troubled feeling in his gut increased momentarily as he tightened his grip on the scanner. _I have to stop borrowing trouble. Our situation is drastically improved from a few days ago. Raph's procedure went off without a hitch...and we're going to get to the root of Mike's issues._

The turtle tapped on the screen of his scanner to bring up the recent medical data entry, and clicked the button to share the information with the desktop computer. The scanner was capable of breaking down the tissue sample in minute detail, but the analysis from the biopsy would be easier to complete from a full keyboard. He reached for a notepad so he could keep some handwritten notes as he went along, and opened the file on the main computer.

_I can't help feeling like the white blood cell count plays a role in why Mike isn't getting better. After all these months, we still don't know why they dropped after he got back from the Congo. There are a lot of reasons it could have happened, anything ranging from a viral infection to an allergic reaction...even a vitamin deficiency. I've been down this road and considered all these possibilities. What am I leaving out?_

The computer screen may as well have not existed in front of him, he was so lost in his own thoughts. _What else? What causes white blood cells to drop in a _human_? I guess there are autoimmune disorders, and even parasitic diseases too. Mike could have picked up something in the Congo that we weren't aware of, but these symptoms don't strike me of that type of illness. _

_Then there's also the consideration of a congenital disorder, but that seems highly unlikely. That would have had to be something that was existing at birth, however...our DNA isn't the _result_ of our natural birth. We were born once, but then we were transformed through a radical process of morphogenesis that none of us can really understand, because we can't reproduce those circumstances. We can view the physical result of the mutation, but we don't know how the cells transformed to make us what we are today._

He rolled his eyes as he took a deep breath to break off the pondering. _What has me on this origin kick this morning? Figuring out the biological process that caused our specific cells to develop their structure wasn't on the agenda for today. All right, Donny. Let's focus, huh?_

He ran his fingers over the keyboard to digitally enlarge the surface area of the tissue sample before he began the process of breaking it back down. As the image sharpened and came into view, Donatello had the vague sensation that all of the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room.

* * *

><p>Raphael shifted his upper body uncomfortably in the chair, wishing dearly for the full use of his limbs. The cramps had returned in full force that afternoon, to the point that he'd asked for a heavier dose of the painkillers <em>before <em>they'd been offered for a change. Marcus had set him up in the sitting room in the back of the house earlier that day, in the hope of the turtle finding some peace and quiet away from the Great Room and all the noise.

_The bedroom is nice and all, I just can't stand to be shut up in there constantly. This feels less like a prison cell_, he said to himself, as he stared out the window at the pristine wilderness. He could only focus on the surroundings for a short time before the scene started swimming before his eyes. His mind felt hazy, and he knew the painkillers were beginning to fully kick in.

Raphael rolled his neck in the direction of the connecting hallway to the rest of the house. It probably wouldn't be long before someone came along to check on him, sit with him, and try to talk to him. He'd rarely been left alone for any extended period of time, except when he was sleeping.

_I don't _know_ that they're leaving me alone when I'm asleep either_, he thought ruefully. _They could still be looking over my shoulder, and I wouldn't know any better._

The red-masked turtle had already seen everyone under the sun today, with the exception of his genius brother. According to Karina he'd gone to work after an early breakfast that morning, and no one had seen hide nor hair of him since. Marcus and Greg had left earlier to make the trip back down the mountain to return the moving truck they'd used to haul their equipment, and Raphael didn't know what everyone else was doing. He could tell what_ he _would probably be doing within the next couple of minutes.

The unnatural weariness was tugging at the back of his mind, and he was loathe to fight it. Raphael closed his eyes and could feel himself starting to drift, floating away on a pain free cloud of bliss. The slam of a door interrupted his descent, and he blinked glassy eyes open in time to focus on his purple-masked brother entering the room.

"Donny? What are you doin'?" he slurred slightly.

His brother didn't reply. Donatello continued standing just outside the door that led from the back staircase, vacantly staring into space.

_Geesh, is he on the same drug as I am?_

"_Don_," he repeated stronger. "What are you doing?"

Donatello at least looked at him that time, but still didn't answer. Amidst the dizzying clash of meds and weariness, Raphael discerned that something was very wrong with his younger brother.

"Donny, sit down, would you? Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Raph, I...I can't."

The red-masked turtle couldn't be sure if it was his imagination or the effect of the drug on his mind, but Donatello sounded older than he should have. "What are you talking about, Bro? You're being weirder than me, and that's saying a lot."

"I have to go." The words were more whispered than spoken.

"Go? Go where?"

"I can't breathe. I have to get some air."

As Raphael struggled to track his brother's movement across the room, a tiny alarm bell sounded in his memory. "No, Don, you shouldn't. It's cold, Doc said that..." He cut off as he tried to remember. _What did Doc say about the weather? I can't even think of it right now._

"I have to." Donatello's voice was devoid of life or feeling.

The coldly spoken words hung in the air, as if mocking him for having a life of his own. "Don, don't go. I need you to...you can't..."

His vision of his brother was blurring, though he was fairly certain he detected movement. The next sound he heard was another door, and Raphael realized quite suddenly that he was alone.

"Don?" he called uselessly. "Hello?"

Only silence met him, and the warm darkness that was descending on him like a blanket. "Don," he mumbled one more time, as his thoughts jumbled into nonsense.

_Where did everyone go? Am I the only one here? Why did he leave when I told him...dang it, when I wake up I'm gonna kill him..._

The questions only led to further confusion as the rest of the room melted away. The red-masked turtle could no more hold on to reality than he could run a marathon. He fell asleep angry, although he already couldn't remember why.


	54. Freezing

Leonardo was in the middle of a calming breath when he heard footsteps rapidly descending the basement steps. A flicker of annoyance lit across his mind, but he strove quickly to contain his irritation at the interruption.

"Leo!" Jenna's voice carried around the corner of the staircase before he had a chance to see the woman. "Is Donny down here with you?"

The blue-masked turtle got to his feet, abandoning hope of returning to the relaxed position for the time being. "No, I haven't seen him all day, Jen. I know he was working - did you check the Lab?"

The young woman looked exasperated. "Of _course_ I looked there, and just about everywhere else! The other girls are helping me comb the house, but nobody's seen him since this morning."

"That doesn't make any sense; he has to be _somewhere_. We're good at disappearing when we need to, but we can't vanish into thin air. Did anyone look around outside?"

"Calley made a circuit of the property, but she didn't see him. Besides, people have been in the Great Room all day, Leo. He couldn't have left without someone noticing."

"That's not the only exit, Jen," he reminded her. "He could have gone out the back without being seen."

"Leo, that doesn't even _sound_ like Donny. Do you really think he'd run off without even telling anyone?"

He shook his head. "He's not the type to hide as a joke either. This is weird," he admitted. "But he's got to turn up. I'll help you look for him."

Leonardo trotted up the steps, and heard Jenna's breathing quickening. "Jen, what's the matter?" he asked as he crested the stairs. "You sound..."

"Crazy? Is that what you wanted to say?"

"That isn't it, Jenna. What's going on?"

"I have a bad feeling about this, Leo. It doesn't make any sense."

"Did you talk to _everyone_? You're sure no one has seen him?"

"Well, yes, for the most part. Raph didn't want to wake up, I could barely get him to stir. Doc gave him a heavy dose of the entromine over an hour ago. I couldn't tell if Raphael even realized what I was asking him."

"But he's in the back of the house still, isn't he? Maybe he saw something."

"Leo, I told you. I couldn't get more than two intelligible words out of him."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "There's a way around it, Jen, there has to be." He turned away from the woman and headed for the Great Room. "Doc? Where are you?"

The blond-haired man was across the room, and spun on heel too quickly when Leonardo called him. Luke's grimace of pain made Leonardo wince too.

"Careful, Doc, I'm sorry for startling you. We need to wake up Raph from the entromine. Any suggestions?"

"Uh...cold water and a big stick? You might want to have your running shoes on first though...if he could chase you that is." Luke didn't seem like he was honestly trying to be funny, and no one laughed.

"I'll grab a bottle from the fridge," Jen volunteered.

"What are you trying to do with your brother?" Luke asked.

"I want to make sure that he didn't see Donny," Leo replied.

A perplexed expression came over Luke instantly. "We've been searching the house from top to bottom, Leo, and there's no sign of him. I don't know what he could possibly be doing."

"Do you think he needed to clear his head? You guys _do_ have a lot going on right now between Raph, Mike, and Becky."

"He could have," Luke allowed. "But the only way that he's still in this house is if he's buried himself deep in hiding. I think it's more likely that he went outside, but I don't like that idea either."

Leonardo looked out at the moisture that was running down the glass windowpanes. "Is that freezing rain?"

"Take a step outside, Leo. Check out the coating of ice we already have on the trees."

"He wouldn't go out in this," the turtle said suddenly. "Don knows better."

"Then we need to start tearing up the floor boards, Leo, because I swear he isn't here."

Jenna returned from the kitchen and Leonardo motioned for her to follow him as he headed down the hall toward the back of the house. Luke trailed along with them, and hesitated a couple of feet away while the blue-masked turtle approached his brother's chair.

Leonardo started out very gently, wetting his palms before patting Raphael's face. "Raph? Bro, wake up."

The red-masked turtle mumbled something he couldn't understand, and turned his head away from Leo.

"No, Raph. Don't fight me - wake _up_." He shook his shoulder insistently this time.

His brother's irritation only appeared to increase as he resisted Leonardo's effort to rouse him. Leonardo looked at Jenna and held out his hand to take the water bottle from her. With a careful motion he dashed water over Raphael's face, and waited apologetically while the surprised turtle rubbed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Raph. I need you to listen to me. Do you understand?"

"Leo, what are you _doing_?" he growled in return.

"We're looking for Don, and we can't find him," he answered. "Do you remember seeing him today?"

The red-masked turtle's brow creased in concentration. "I've been pretty out of it for a while, Leo."

"I know, but what about before that?"

At that moment Katherine emerged from the back staircase, and the suction created from the ventilation caused the door to slam closed behind her. Raphael jolted as if startled, but the disoriented look in his eyes disappeared with it.

"Donny. I saw him - he was _here_, Leo. He came down those stairs too."

"When was that, Raph?" Jenna asked.

Raphael looked at the woman as if she'd lost her mind. "Jen, I don't remember it like _that_. I was hardly awake, but I know Don was upset. He insisted he had to get some air, and I told him not to go-"

"Did he say anything about taking the scanner with him? Was he wearing any layers?" Luke interrupted.

"He wasn't wearing anything, and I don't remember anything about the scanner. I told him not to go, Doc, he wouldn't listen!"

Luke swore under his breath. "They couldn't find his scanner upstairs. Without that machine, we don't have a reliable way of tracking him."

"We probably don't _need_ to track him," Leo said thoughtfully.

"Leo, it's too cold for him to be out gallivanting around without protection! He could get seriously hurt!" Luke insisted.

"That isn't what I meant, Doc, I'm _going_ after him. My point is that Donny is a creature of habit. Even if he's upset, he's probably not running around haphazardly. He would head for an area that he knew, somewhere he's been before. He and I only made that one side trip, so my guess is, that's where he's gone."

"Bundle up then, and make sure that you take some things for him too. I need to get something from the Lab. _Don't _leave until I get back down here," Luke ordered.

As Luke started up the stairs, Raphael's fingers latched onto Leo's arm in a desperate grip. "Leo, something is _really_ wrong. He looked like he'd seen a ghost or something. It was one of the weirdest things I ever saw."

Leonardo swallowed deeply. "I'm going to get some clothes. Let Doc know if he beats me back here."

He climbed to the second floor, and met Calley outside their bedroom door.

"Leo, what's happening?" she asked. "You don't look so good."

"I don't have much time. Raph said he saw Donny leave, and I need to get after him."

Calley followed him into the bedroom and dug his boots out of the closet while he was sorting through clothes. "Wear your duster too, will you? You're going to get soaked. Do you know where he went?"

"I have a general idea. I need to pack some things for him too. Can you find me his boots maybe?"

The young woman left the room and returned a couple of minutes later with the boots already in a bag. Leonardo stuffed another coat inside too, and pulled the bag over his shoulder.

"Leo, be careful."

He squeezed her arm as he went by. "I will, and I won't be too long. I doubt he would have wandered much farther than we did the other day."

Luke called his name before he could get to the stairs, and Leonardo saw the pain clearly etched in his face as he hurried.

"Stop, Doc, I'll come to _you_."

Luke held out an epi-pen to him. "Adrenal-heat. One click, okay? Give it to him just to be safe, no matter what state you find him in. When you really start to feel the cold, give yourself an injection too."

"Simple enough. I'll be fast, Doc."

"Please do. I'm heading back upstairs to find out what on earth he was researching. Bring Donny up immediately when you get back."

Leonardo nodded, slipping the epi-pen into his coat pocket. Jenna was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when he got there.

"Maybe I should go with you," she said. "I could talk to him..."

"Jen, I'll be faster if I go alone," he replied gently. "Don't worry. I'll bring him back."

"Then hurry please."

"I'll be back soon."

The blue-masked turtle pulled on the hood of the sweatshirt he was wearing under the duster. The hood wasn't going to do him much good after it got wet, but he guessed that it might be better than nothing. His boots crunched on the blades of frozen grass, and he was strangely fascinated by the crystalline layer of ice that had formed on all the solid surfaces.

Leonardo was at once grateful for the gift of the boots that the girls had gotten all of them for Christmas last year, but he hated the thought of his younger brother running around without them. He breathed away the anxious flutter in his stomach and started moving as quickly as the uncertain layer of ice upon the grass would allow.

He'd hoped that the trees would provide a little protection from the elements, but the wind was blowing the rain in sideways, so that it was still saturating his clothing. It didn't take long for the chill to start setting in, especially combined with the wind. Leonardo banished the thought of the cold, and dashed faster up the path that lead to the nearby mountain peak.

He shivered involuntarily as rain came into contact with his skin, despite the layers he was wearing. Following the path that he and Donatello had used before wasn't difficult, but it was far less comfortable today than it had been on that sunny afternoon. When the wind picked up again it lashed heavy pine branches from side to side, laden with the extra weight of the coating of ice. Leonardo ducked under tree boughs with a further sense of urgency to hurry.

_What could have upset him enough that Donny would take off in a storm like this? It's sheer madness._

Leonardo wiped moisture off of his forehead, hardly containing a tremor that shook him to the core.

_It has to be bad news. He must have found something...but what? Then again...if he didn't find anything, it could have upset him too, for a different reason. Shell, _why_ couldn't he just talk to us? What good has running ever done anyone?_

Leonardo sighed as the frustration filled his mind. _The important thing is to find him. Everything else can wait. C'mon, Don, don't let me down. I know you wouldn't have gone much further than this...I hope._

The partial clearing that lead to the ridge they'd perched on the other day was in sight. Leonardo picked up speed and accidentally slipped on fallen leaves that were already covered in a thin sheet of ice. He swiftly recovered his balance and pressed forward. The ascent up the hill was harder than the last time, and he slid more than once as he tried to keep his boots planted underneath him. He'd nearly crested half-way when his feet shot out again, and he landed on his knees this time.

Leonardo rose gingerly and kept going, shifting the bag he was carrying to his other shoulder. He hurried through the edge of the tree-line to the open clearing on the other side. The blue-masked turtle exhaled deeply when he saw the outline of his youngest brother sitting on the ground. Relief was nearly overcome by panic as he rushed to get to him.

"Don?" His voice shook along with the shiver racing down his back.

Brown eyes met him mutely, and Leonardo sighed once more. _First thing's first. Get him taken care of, questions later._

"I'm glad I found you. I've got a couple things for you, okay?"

Leonardo fished the epi-pen out of his pocket and injected his younger brother, before pulling back his soaking wet sleeve to inject himself. He shrugged out of the bag he'd been toting, and helped Donatello get the boots on before wrapping the coat around him.

"Now you've got to get up. C'mon," Leo urged him.

He braced his arms under Donny for additional support, cringing at how cold his exposed skin felt. The purple-masked turtle stood unsteadily, staring at the storm-tossed branches as though hypnotized.

"I'm going to help you, Don. We have to get down from here."

It took a small push to get the younger turtle moving, then Leonardo kept himself planted firmly behind him to make the trip back to the house.


	55. Bombshell

***For 54 Chapters, you've wondered what on earth is wrong with Mikey. Today, that question is finally going to be answered.**

* * *

><p>Michelangelo sat motionless in front of a window in the back sitting room, waiting to catch sight of his brothers.<p>

_They're coming any time now. They have to be._

The increased pressure in his chest made it feel like a vise was tightening his lungs, but the pain hardly registered in his mind. He felt delicate fingers on his shoulder, and turned slightly to face Rebecca.

"Leo will find him," she said.

"I know," he replied.

If the women hadn't been around to stop him, the orange-masked turtle might have charged out into the storm after them. He didn't care if he could keep up with Leonardo, so long as he could follow him. Mike shifted in his chair, rising a couple of inches only to sit down again. He was so unsettled that he couldn't remain in one position for very long.

Michelangelo felt Becky's presence hovering, anxious. He knew she wanted to talk to him, but Rebecca was probably afraid to open her mouth and say the wrong thing. He wasn't worried over whether or not Leo would find Donny. The blue-masked turtle wouldn't quit until he did, and he agreed with Leonardo's assessment that Donatello wouldn't have strayed far.

_But why would he go at all? Don's been known to avoid us for a while when something's really eating him, but the only time I've seen him run is when someone made him _angry_._

Mike bolted up in the hardback chair when he caught a flash of color among the dark evergreen branches, and he got to his feet. "I see them! They're coming."

Jenna leaped to her feet out of the corner of his eye, and Mike sensed that she was ready to pounce. Some of his nerves and concerned anger fled the moment he saw his purple-masked brother standing in one piece. The two turtles were still a short distance off when he realized how hunched Donatello's posture was, and that Leonardo was partially supporting him. Mike was still grateful to see his brother conscious and relieved that both of them were coming home safely, but questions nagged at his mind as they ascended the wrap-around porch.

Donatello tried to take a step without Leonardo's help when he saw Jenna in the line of fire, but quickly stumbled before the older turtle wrapped his arms around his shell again.

"Donny!" Jenna lingered within arm's reach of them, even as she tried not to block them from getting inside. "Leo, is he okay?"

"Doc needs him upstairs," Leo said swiftly. "I think he'll be okay, Jen, but Luke gets first crack at him, all right?"

"But..." the woman half-heartedly faltered as Leonardo steered the younger turtle toward the stairs.

"Jenna, please." Leonardo's voice changed entirely. "Just a few minutes, and I'll invite you up."

It was the pleading tone that probably stopped the young woman in her tracks. Jenna took a step back to make it easier for them to get through, but Mike wasn't so easily dissuaded. Without a word he followed Leonardo, who was now mostly carrying Don up the first set of stairs.

"Mike, could you give us a couple minutes before-"

"No," he said staunchly. "I wanna know what's going on as much as you do. I'm coming."

He was surprised when his brother made no further argument, and wondered if Leo's tremors had anything to do with it. The blue-masked turtle looked like he'd been soaked to the bone too, and was obviously freezing.

_Probably in no mood to fight with me. I'm sure Jen only backed off 'cause she's never heard him sound like that _

_before._

Despite how cold he must have been, there was no falter or weakness in Leonardo's legs as he carried Donatello up the next flight of stairs to the third floor.

"Doc, we're here!" Leo called. "We both had a shot of the adrenal-heat, but Don's acting really strange. He hasn't said a word since I found him. I'm afraid he might be going into shock, not that I know anything about..." Leonardo didn't finish as he fixed on the man, who was staring blankly at the computer screen. "Doc?"

Luke looked over his shoulder, and Mike was startled to see all the color drained from the man's face. "Will you help him to the bed please, Leo? He's probably going to need warming fluids."

While Leonardo lifted the purple-masked turtle onto the mattress, Luke slowly finished assembling the IV line that had been prepared. The man was focused on the task, but he wasn't acting normal. Luke was moving as if he weighed a thousand pounds; every action seemed as if it took great effort to accomplish.

His older brother picked up on it too. "Doc, are you hurting?"

Mike saw the haunted look in Luke's eyes before the man deliberately averted them. "I need to finish hooking this up," he said quietly.

Luke traced Donatello's arm to find a good vein for the IV line, and the purple-masked turtle's gaze met him. Luke and Donny studied one another silently, as if each was searching for the same thing. Michelangelo saw the glimmer of understanding that passed between them, and the dam that had been erected over his brother's subconscious crumbled in a split second.

A wracking sob startled and frightened Michelangelo in its intensity, and all he wanted to do was go and comfort his brother. By all appearances, however, Donatello was beyond consoling. For his part Luke barely reacted; it seemed Donatello's tears didn't even surprise him. The man finished setting up the IV properly and looked at Leonardo.

"Leo, you need to get out of those wet things," he said emotionlessly.

The blue-masked turtle peered at the man closely as he stripped off the layers. "Doc...what the_ shell _is going on?"

Luke didn't look at him, but rather at Michelangelo.

"Is this about me?" the orange-masked turtle asked.

"Mike, I..." Luke strove for words, but seemed unable to find them.

"It _is_," Mike said with certainty now. "Don found something, didn't he?"

Luke's gaze faltered, and Leonardo took another step forward.

"Guys, we need to know what's going on. Someone talk to us," Leo insisted.

With Donatello already broken down, both turtles focused on a wilting Luke. Michelangelo had a momentary twinge of sympathy for the man, before he remembered that he needed to get him talking.

"Doc, don't be like this. Whatever it is, you need to tell us. Tell _me_. It's my body, isn't it? I deserve to know what's happening to it."

A flicker of real emotion crossed Luke's blue eyes and he swallowed. "Guys...sit down."

Leonardo instantly moved to a chair, but Mike felt like he couldn't move.

"Is it that bad, Doc? I guess it would have to be for _both_ of you to react this way. I'm a big turtle. Just tell me. It's been going on for months, it's getting worse, and I'm ready for answers."

"Mike, I really need you to sit down," Luke said firmly.

The orange-masked turtle dropped into a chair to Leonardo's right, but shrugged away from his brother's hand that was searching for his shoulder. "Okay, we're sitting, Doc. Tell us."

Luke hesitated a moment longer, casting another look over his shoulder at the desktop computer. "The biopsy tells a pretty detailed story, Mike," he started carefully. "The sample revealed tissue damage, with scarring that's very consistent with...It's virtually identical to a condition that we've seen before."

Mike could only think of _one_ instance where so much attention had been on someone's lungs, and it gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Sensei," he said flatly.

"There are still tests we need to perform," Luke said. "We don't know-"

"Don seems like he _knows_ something, Doc, and I deserve to know too. Do you think I'm dying?" The question came up faster than he'd intended it too, and it was clear that his frankness startled Luke _and_ Leonardo.

"It's too soon to say that," Luke said bleakly.

Michelangelo held his gaze, discerning what Luke didn't want to say. Anger flooded his senses at that moment, and he swore out loud. "Just tell me the_ truth_, Doc!"

"The preliminary results match your Sensei's case. We need to get a deeper look at your lungs so that we can see the full extent of the damaged tissue."

Mike looked down at the floor, unable to withstand the pain in Luke's voice that he couldn't hide anymore.

"But...you said...you thought the conditions weren't similar." Leonardo sounded uncertain, unwilling to believe it. "Weeks ago, we talked about this, remember? You said that Mike's sickness presented differently."

"Initially, yes, it has. Mike had a lot more ups and downs than your Sensei did. I think it's possible his body has been trying to compensate for the loss of tissue, to make up for the decrease in oxygen. It could be his fight has held out longer before getting worse because of his age. All of our lungs naturally lose function as we get older, which would have put your Sensei at a disadvantage. The difference in your mutations could have played a role too. Whatever the case, the condition is acute now, and that means there's no turning back."

Michelangelo felt like all the warmth inside his body had fled, that the chill had seeped in so far he might never be able to feel again. "So...I have what Sensei had. How long does that give me, Doc? Weeks, months? What am I looking at?"

His immediate acceptance seemed to anger Leonardo.

"Now hold on! They're just getting started, Mike. This can't possibly be your death sentence. You learned some things from Sensei's battle, didn't you? Isn't there any experience from treating him that gives you hope for helping Mike?" Leo asked.

"We haven't even begun to fight," Luke replied more forcefully than he'd been able to yet.

"Explain it to me, Doc," Mike requested. "The cells are attacking my lung tissue, right?"

"_Some_ of them are," Luke corrected. "Too many. What we found in your Sensei's case was a genetic defect in his stem cells, which caused them to start mutating spontaneously. We don't know why the mutated stem cells attack the alveoli, but once the surface area of the air sac walls has been destroyed, it hinders the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide that we all experience when we breathe. As in your Sensei's case, it also eventually results in the loss of elasticity in the lungs, which makes the airways more likely to collapse."

"How long can these cells keep attacking the air sacs before they're gonna give out completely?" Mike couldn't explain the calm numbness or the lack of an emotional response, but he meant to find out as much as he could.

"We don't know. We don't know how advanced your condition is. We'll have to do another biopsy with a better camera to find out how much of the surface area has been affected," Luke said officially, regaining some of his lost composure. The man reached for Donatello's arm. "Do you hear me, Donny? It's _not_ over."

"Doc, have you even considered the implications that this finding has for _all_ of us?" The purple-masked turtle surprised Michelangelo by speaking.

Luke nodded gravely. "I have, Don. But your Sensei _made_ us quit. He didn't give us the chance to really fight it. Mike's going to be different."

"You _haven't_ realized what this means then."

"I, uh...I don't think I'm following you, Donny. What are you trying to say?"

"Back when we first realized that the stem cells in Sensei's lungs were going awry, we tested _everyone_. Do you recall that?" Donatello used the rail to pull himself upright. "This is about Mike, but it's _also_ about the rest of us, even Olivia probably. The genetic defect we discovered in Sensei's cells, we all have it. That means that every single one of us has the potential to develop this disorder, within which the lung stem cells are destroying the alveoli. It happened to Sensei. It's happening to Mike-"

"And it could happen to the rest of us just as easily. Is that what you're saying?" Leo interrupted.

"Yes. It doesn't appear to be a random fluctuation in stem cells. This is a very specific morphogenesis that all of us experienced because of the mutation. And because it's genetic, it was probably passed on to Olivia too." Donatello rested his head in his hands. "Over 99% of mutations are harmful. Why did I believe it was possible to beat those odds?"


	56. Fighting

Raphael stared at the baby turtle in his arms, unconsciously clutching Olivia tighter than normal. She wasn't known for being much of a cuddler except when she was tired, but right now Liv's solemn gaze was just taking him in. The little turtle wasn't even resisting being held for that long period. He brushed his hand across her cheek, momentarily distracted by how soft her skin felt under his fingers. He wanted to hold on to her forever, like he would be able to somehow protect Olivia from the insidious enemy that had invaded their family.

The freezing rain had changed into snow, and there was a light coating on the ground outside. Raphael didn't know how much time had passed since Luke had come to talk to him. It didn't seem to matter. Nothing was registering except for the desperate clawing in his chest to protect his little brother, and to keep his baby safe. Instinctively he knew that the fight was out of his hands, and the impotent feeling made him want to break down or shake his fist at the invisible assailant that would dare threaten his loved ones.

_Normally I'd just beat the living daylights out of someone for that, but what am I supposed to do now? Sensei surrendered to this thing - he said it was his time. Am I supposed to just accept that for the rest of us too? This can't be the end. Not for Mikey...not for us._

A soft whimper called him back to the sitting room, and he looked down at Olivia. The baby was starting to become a little restless in his grasp. Raphael glanced at his watch. _She's probably getting hungry. I don't even know when Liv ate last._

The red-masked turtle kept one arm around Olivia and reached for his phone with the other. He released a shaky breath, trying to expel the threatening emotion before making the call. Raphael wasn't entirely successful; his voice still shook as he said Karina's name.

"Could you c'mere?" he asked. "I think Liv is ready to eat."

"I'll be right there," she replied.

The young woman had allowed him the space she knew he wanted, even though Raphael was certain Karina hadn't wanted to leave. She returned as silent as a shadow, slipping into the room with an air of disquiet. Olivia broke into a small tirade of gibberish when she saw her mother, but Karina couldn't bring herself to smile. The woman drew the baby out of Raphael's arms, and cradled her close to her chest.

"Raph, I'll be right back, okay?"

"Just take care of Liv," he said hoarsely.

Her light green eyes bored into him, and Karina shook her head. "I'll be right back," she repeated insistently.

He watched her go back down the hall, and retreated into the terrified questioning that had been assaulting his mind. Raphael _wanted_ to see Mike; he just didn't think he could handle a meeting without breaking down.

_Shell, Don's already lost it enough for _all_ of us. I can't fall apart on Mikey too._

The red-masked turtle sniffed as discouragement pounded against his iron will, refusing to give him a minute's reprieve. The speed with which he heard Karina returning indicated that the woman had allowed someone else to take charge of the baby, so she could sit with _him_. Karina took a seat to the left of his recliner, and didn't speak right away, letting the unnatural silence continue. Raphael was grateful that she hadn't asked if he was okay, but when he noticed the quiet tears of her cheeks, he had to say something.

"Kari..." he started, but he didn't know what to tell her._ I should have some clue. I've been here before, there ought to be something I can tell her_, he thought helplessly.

"Raph, don't," she said quickly. "You don't have to."

Raphael hated being trapped in that chair, incapable of going to her, unable to make her feel any assurance about the situation that was unfolding in front of them. He wanted to tell her that it wouldn't be the same as it had been with his Sensei, that Mike wasn't going to die, their daughter wasn't going to be threatened, and he wasn't in danger of developing the same complication.

The young woman seemed to sense his inner turmoil, and she reached out to grasp his wrist. The physical contact from her was the only thing it took to overwhelm him. Tears came rapidly to the surface, and he didn't have the power to force them back down. He wanted to turn away from her in that moment, to maintain some illusion that he could be strong for her, even though everything was falling apart at the seams. Raphael couldn't bring himself to reject her eye contact or push Karina away, just so she wouldn't realize his emotions were rising as strongly as hers.

"Raph, this doesn't make any sense to me," she wavered. "Why are you guys separating at a time like this, when you need each other so much more?"

"Don ain't ready to be with anyone yet. You _saw_ him, Kari. I can't look at Mike without thinking I'm gonna lose it, and Leo...I can't stand the fear in his eyes. He's trying as hard as anybody could, but he can't do this either. Leo can't pretend like everything's gonna be okay, because we know better than that. We've already seen what this stupid mutation does, and we know there's no answer to fix it."

"They weren't given the chance," Karina corrected. "Luke told me about Splinter rejecting Donatello's further research on the matter. He said the _minute_ stem cells came up, Splinter put a stop to all the lab work. You don't know that they couldn't have found a solution back then, or that they won't find it now. Time has passed; both knowledge and technology have increased. It's far from over, Raph. Don't accept this as a death sentence for Mike, or _any_ of you."

Raphael closed his eyes briefly. "Kari, I wanna believe in miracles. I wanna believe that the same weird destiny that shaped our lives and brought us together before we were even transformed still exists. I just don't know how to right now."

She gripped his chin with surprising force and made him look up at her. "If this family is worth saving, if you love Olivia even more than the day you met her, you're going to have to change that, Raph. I know you can't _feel _it right now - neither than I. But sometimes it isn't about what you can see or feel. When you can't find hope that way, faith is all you have left. This isn't the end. The sooner you guys can get over that hump, the sooner we can _do_ something."

* * *

><p>The house had settled into an eery silence that made Greg feel so uncomfortable that he wanted to go to his room, the way most of the others already had. Luke was the only one he'd actually spoken with at length, after Greg and Marcus had returned from Asheville. He'd sat with Michelangelo and Rebecca for a while <em>without <em>talking, but the way the young woman was clinging to the turtle made Greg feel like he was intruding. The urge to get back in the car and drive was strong, but it didn't seem like it would be the best use of his time.

He'd noticed the curious fact that Jenna was milling around the house aimlessly, without ever coming to rest. Greg had already heard what the older turtles were doing, and Luke had briefly touched on Donny's breakdown. That didn't explain why Jenna wasn't with him. As she made her circuit past the Great Room, he got up to meet her this time.

"Have you seen Don lately?"

With pursed lips, she shook her head. "He's not talking to anyone. I've seen him come close to this before, Greg; I remember how hard it was in the aftermath of Splinter's death. But even then, he didn't shut me out completely. Not like this. I want to be with Donny, but _he's _not there. It's like staring at someone who's already three-quarters of the way dead, with nothing left to live for."

"Jenna, sit down," Greg urged her. "Get off your feet. Don hasn't gone anywhere, and God willing, his mind will be back soon." He directed the reluctant woman into chair. "You know him, Jen, so you know this won't last."

She breathed anxiously. "I don't know what to do in the meantime."

"Stay here and find a calm place. I'll be back in a little while."

Greg headed for the stairs and scaled the two flights that would take him to the third floor. The purple-masked turtle was across the room in the Lab. The IV unit had been disconnected and was sitting in a corner, but Donny was curled up facing the wall. If he heard Greg coming (and the man had a hard time believing that he didn't), Donatello chose to ignore him.

Greg pondered the situation before grabbing a desk chair, and wheeling it over to him. "Y'know, Donny...I'm thinking all of this might be a little premature," he said evenly. "I know that everyone needs time to grieve in their own way, but uh...it's not that time yet. So forgive me if it feels like I'm being hard on you, but there are some things that I need to say."

The turtle didn't acknowledge him, but the man continued.

"I think you're being pretty selfish right now. Your little brother just found out he has a deadly condition, and he didn't even hear it from you. Mike has calmly accepted that he's going to die, and you've done absolutely nothing to reassure him, or give him a_ spark _of hope that he might still have a shot. I understand that all of this comes as a complete shock, even more so because of how it could affect all of you. But you're getting the cart before the horse; your steps are out of order. The Donny I know doesn't accept defeat without even _trying_ to fight. That's the opposite of who you are. Your family needs you, and you need them, so why don't you cut this out, and come downstairs?"

Donatello's eyes narrowed as he faced him for the first time. "You _don't_ understand, you couldn't possibly. You have no idea what it's like to carry this."

"Sure, Don, because I don't know _anything_ about death or grief," he replied sarcastically. "I'm just the one who found my dead mother's body when I was thirteen years old. But you know more than me, of course."

"That isn't what I mean, Greg. You're human. You can walk around as free as a bird, and get help from anywhere you need it."

"I don't understand what you're saying, Donny. Are you mad at me _because_ I'm human, because I have more freedom than you?"

"I'm not mad at_ you_! I'm mad at the facts, I'm mad that we didn't figure this out sooner! I'm mad that there's nothing left to depend on."

Greg took a deep breath, wondering if he could force some of his own calm to overtake the turtle. "Don, it's only been recently that Mike took a turn for the worse. You had no reason to suspect that his condition was related to your Sensei's."

"There were reasons to suspect it," Donatello said bitterly. "I just didn't look the right direction. We should have delved deeper sooner, we should have-"

"Stop it. You can go on all night about what you could have done, Don, but it's irrelevant. None of it matters. You should be focusing on trying to make Mike get better, not feeling guilty. Why are you acting like this is over before you even have a chance to address it?"

"Greg, how much do you know about stem cells?"

The man sat back in the chair, considering the question. "Not much."

"The study of them has been going on for decades, Heff, and researchers are still only cracking the surface. The reason my Sensei told me to back off of saving him, was because he _knew_ I couldn't do it. He gave me an out, and I took it."

"You respected his wishes."

"He was _right_, Greg. I didn't know enough about stem cells to save him back then, and I don't have the ability to help Mike now. This is over my head, _way _over my head. I'm talking about dealing with an infinitesimal number of cells, the need to reproduce healthy stem cells at a rate of which we can't possibly attain. It can't be done. The lungs don't produce very many stem cells to begin with. If I had another ten years of work to dedicate to this, I might come up with a method to reverse the damage done to the lung tissue, if the rest of us have that long. But Mike? There's no way. He doesn't have enough time left. It_ is _over for him, Greg. How am I supposed to tell him that?"

"_You_ don't possess the research or the knowledge, but what about someone else, Don? What about the Genetic Institute sitting at the bottom of this mountain?"

"Greg, it isn't as if I can just read what they've done and replicate their life's work. It's a lot more complicated than that."

"Does that mean you're not even willing to_ try_? Don, I can't accept that from you. I won't. We've been up against massive odds in the past too, and still come out on top. You never quit, despite how little chance there was of success. I won't let you stop now."

"This is entirely different."

"No it isn't, not when you really think about it. In every situation, the odds were vastly stocked against you. You had no guarantee of winning, but you still went forward, regardless. Why was it better to keep going, Don?"

Donatello didn't answer, and Greg plunged ahead.

"I'll tell you why. Because it's more honorable to die trying to pull something off, than to run away without attempting it. If you have a chance to fight, Donny, then _fight _'til the end. And then if we lose...if someone dies, at least they'll go out knowing you did everything you could have. Isn't it better to lose a battle that you were bold enough to fight, than to surrender and accept automatic defeat?"

Donatello's chest heaved with emotion. "I don't know if I can do this," he said honestly.

"You're not going to carry this alone, Don, which is essentially what you're trying to do now. Get out of this room, and stop hiding."

The purple-masked turtle rose to his feet without another word, and Greg followed him slowly down the stairs. He rested one hand softly on Donny's shoulder as they approached the Great Room.

"Don?" Michelangelo looked surprised, his blue eyes widening as his brother dropped to his knees by the couch where he was sitting. "Donny, what are you..."

Donatello's arms went around the orange-masked turtle as he dissolved into tears once more. "I'm sorry, Mikey. I'm so sorry."


	57. Hope

Michelangelo leaned heavily against the headboard, watching Rebecca slowly change out of her clothes. The young woman still appeared to be doing everything on auto-pilot, without showcasing her true emotions. When she yanked the rubber band off her ponytail and shook her curls out, he couldn't help but smile.

_Shell, her hair is so beautiful. I don't know why she thinks she needs to have it up all the time._

Rebecca made silent eye contact with him, before coming to rest on the end of the bed. "Would you like something hot, Mike?"

The turtle shook his head, pulling the blanket he was using up further. "No. Just you."

The young woman crawled up beside him, displaying a curious mixture of apprehension and encouragement. Rebecca hadn't said very much since the news of his condition had been delivered, but she hadn't left his side either. Mike sensed that she was trying to come up with the "right" thing to say, and he wanted to relieve her mind if it was possible.

"C'mere, Beck." He invited her into his arms, and she didn't hesitate to curl up beside him. As Mike ran his hand lightly over the curls framing her face he felt Rebecca shiver, but her blue-green eyes held him in an unflinching gaze. The fearlessness of the look struck him.

_She's the_ only _one who's really been able to look me in the eyes over the last few hours._

"You're the best. Do you know that?" he asked.

She shook her head in confusion. "I haven't done anything."

"Yes, you have," he said seriously. "Just _being _with you is comforting; you have no idea."

"I honestly don't know how that could be."

He smiled. "That's because you don't know how great you are."

Rebecca couldn't smile, but she didn't resist his attempt to draw her closer either. Silence filled the air between them for a couple of minutes, until the young woman took a sharp breath.

"I don't_ want _you to just accept this," she said softly. "Mike, tell me you're not going to give up on me."

Her words made tears spring back to his eyes. "Beck, I would_ never _give up that easily. I don't want this to happen any more than you do. I think I'm just kind of numb right now, like the full impact of it hasn't hit me yet. In a way, though, there's something good about it. Whether the docs can save me or not, they're going to learn from this. Maybe even enough to help everyone else, if that time comes. That could be the real reason I'm not flipping out. If there's hope that the geniuses can figure out this puzzle by working on me, it almost makes it all worth it."

"You sound like a martyr, Mike."

"I'm just saying, if I'm gonna die, I wouldn't mind it so much if I knew my brothers and Olivia would live."

"What about_ our _baby, Mikey? Are you planning on giving him a chance to meet you _before_ you die for him?"

He could tell he'd struck a nerve, but he wasn't sure how to recover. "I told you I don't want this, Becky. I don't want to leave you _or_ our baby. I was only thinking that if I have to go, I want the docs to get _something_ out of this."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "I don't want you to think that way, at least, not yet. I'm not ready to hear this."

Michelangelo nodded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to act like it's not a big deal, Beck. I know what this means to everybody. I mean, let's face it. I'm a popular guy."

She giggled in spite of herself. "Only _you_ could find some way to make me laugh about this."

He grinned, enjoying the way the smile lingered on her face for a few seconds. "It's a gift."

"_You're _the gift, Mike," she replied. "You've been giving it to me ever since you found me in that rainforest, and threw me off that cliff."

"You had to know I was unique, right from the start."

"That's one word for it." Rebecca released a shuddering sigh as she wedged herself further under his arm.

"Don't let me crush the baby," he murmured.

She glanced up at him with another small smile. "No one related to you guys could be that easily destroyed."

Mike gently toyed with one of her curls as her body heat soothed him both physically and mentally. Having Rebecca close was better than any medicine he could think of. He intentionally tried to breathe more quietly, so she wouldn't hear the slight wheeze behind it, and maintained a smile in case she looked at him.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" she asked out of the blue.

He shook his head. "Nope. This is enough."

Her blue-green eyes fixed on the ceiling, and he felt like she was working up her courage to ask something.

Slowly, she reached for his hand. "Are you scared, Mike?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think if anyone said they weren't scared at all, they'd probably be lying. I'm not ready for this, Becky. I don't want to go."

He heard her sniff, and her grip on his fingers tightened. "I don't want you to go either. But there's still hope, Mike. You heard Doc earlier. I don't want to start grieving until I have no other choice. Will you promise me that you'll keep fighting too? I know you're going to get tired, and I'm going to be here for you. I just need to hear you say that you won't be giving yourself up as some sacrificial offering to save anyone else."

Mike shook his head. "I'll cooperate with the docs. I'm gonna do whatever it takes. I don't_ want _you to start grieving, or anyone else. I think that would only make it harder to stay positive. I'll try my hardest to hold on, and if you can think good thoughts, that would help me a lot too."

"If there's any way I can help ease this burden, I'm going to do it, Mikey. I don't want you walking around here faking it either. If there are times when you're not feeling happy, don't push the act down our throats. No one is strong all the time, and you're going to need support. Don't hesitate to let us help you, and please don't try to hide anything from me."

"I won't, Beck. I know I need help. I won't make it without you and my brothers."

There were tears shining in her eyes when she looked at him again. "I don't know if I can make it without_ you_. I don't even want to think about it."

"Please don't do that to yourself. All this stress can't be good for you and the baby. You've got to take it easy too." She started to shake her head, but he nodded insistently. "You have to take care of yourself for the baby's sake."

"I'm going to, Mike. I would never let anything happen to our child. I'll do whatever it takes to bring him safely into the world too."

* * *

><p>Donatello, Luke, and Marcus had been up in the Lab for a couple of hours, kicking around ideas for where to go from the results that they'd received that day. The purple-masked turtle sat back thoughtfully for a moment, and allowed the doctors to carry the discussion.<p>

"We already know from experience with Splinter that breathing treatments should help prolong him," Marcus commented. "I don't think we should hold off on those, or wait for him to get any worse."

Luke nodded his agreement. "Let's get the machine set up tonight, and he can begin with getting the treatment at least once a day, unless necessity requires it more often. I need to get on the phone with Caleb. I've been putting this off a little, but the sooner we can get inside the Institute, the sooner we can formulate a real plan."

Donatello had assumed from the beginning that Luke's plan wouldn't involve acquiring Dr. Well's _direct_ assistance with the situation. He couldn't deny that he was uncomfortable with the idea of stealing information from the Genetic Institute, but their options were few.

_I guess it isn't _that _different from when I've had to hack the polices' database, or even when we cracked that Evidence Bunker in Okinawa. We have to do what we have to do. Even if it means pilfering someone else's life work, _he added ruefully. _Not that we'd be interfering in his research; we only need copies of what he's working on. I just don't know if it will be enough. The genetic process is so complicated. It isn't something you simply learn from books or someone's notes. We need hands on lab work, someone to guide us through this..._

The prospect of discerning a solution from the Lab's research in the amount of time that Michelangelo had left was daunting. _But Greg's right. It'd be ridiculous to sit back and do nothing, even if I don't think we can pull this off. We have to try._

Don caught Luke and Marcus staring at him, and realized he'd probably missed something. "Uh...I didn't catch that," he admitted sheepishly. "What were you saying?"

"It would help if we had some kind of small camera that we could take into the Institute with us," Luke said. "That way, we could get a digital record of the lay-out, in addition to what I can mentally recall. Do you think you could pull something together?"

Donny nodded. "Sure, no sweat. I'll put a couple of lenses together tonight, so they'll be ready when you need them. Hopefully Dr. Wells is eager to share his work with you, and the two of you could be behind the scenes as early as tomorrow."

"I'll try not to sound over-eager," Luke replied. "I don't want to come across as desperate or odd in any shape or form. I'm going to get him on the phone now, and see what I can set-up."

The purple-masked turtle leaned his elbows on the desk wearily. He felt like he'd aged about twenty years in the span of a few hours. _But there's work to do, and I don't want them having to wait on the cameras. I'm going to need to build the devices from scraps. _Before he could get to work taking an inventory on the electronic components he had available to him, however, there was a knock at the door. Jenna stuck her head inside without waiting for an invitation.

Donatello raised a hand in greeting. "Hi, Jen. C'mon in."

The young woman didn't move. "Don, you need to come down for a few minutes and eat something. I want you out of this Lab."

After his poor behavior earlier that day, he wasn't even tempted to argue with her. Donatello reached for her shoulder as she descended the stairs in front of him and she stopped to look back at him. Her light blue eyes practically seared through him with their intensity.

"Jen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for worrying you, and pushing you away."

She didn't say anything, but then started descending once more. "I've been through some things in my life, Donny, and I've survived all of them so far. But one of the things I_ don't _think I could take is losing you under a cloud of depression. I don't blame you for being overwhelmed, or even for feeling guilty. I know you can't help how you feel. But this family can't afford to lose you, and...you would absolutely break my heart forever if you gave up too soon. Do you understand where I'm coming from?"

"Yeah, I do," he said morosely. "I was behaving badly and being incredibly insensitive. It's a strange feeling to have the rug pulled out from underneath something you _really _believe in, Jen. The special 'destiny' we've come to trust in, believing that our lives were serving some kind of greater purpose, and that it wasn't all some silly accident...All of that has been shaken. The circumstances we were created under were flawed."

Jenna stopped in her tracks. "Like humans are so perfect? We're born with genetic defects. We have hereditary illnesses. Children can get cancer, are born with heart conditions, and even mental handicaps. Does that mean there's no purpose in _their_ lives, Donny?"

"No, Jen, that's not what I meant."

"I _know_ what you meant, Donatello. Your line of thinking has been that some mysterious force has been watching over you for your entire lives. Now that this is happening, you're questioning whether you've been fooling yourself."

"Well..."

"I know that's what it is, Donny, and you're looking at this the wrong way. I understand why you're so discouraged, but consider where we _are_ right now. We're 600 miles away from the city, in the secluded hills of North Carolina...and we just so happen to have ended up in the same neighborhood of a Genetic Institute, that could hold the key to rescuing all of you. I'm sorry, but that doesn't sound like some off 'chance' to me. It seems like your 'turtle luck' is alive and well."


	58. Inside

Luke rested both arms over the steering wheel as he stared at the innocuous building in front of him. He glanced over at Marcus sitting in the passenger seat, and drew a deep breath.

"It has to be done." Luke broke their long silence.

Marc shrugged. "We're not stealing industry secrets or their research, Luke."

"We kind of _are_," Luke countered.

"There's nothing else we can do, Luke, unless you want to drive Mikey over here and ask if _they_ can treat him."

Luke ran a hand through blond hair that had been growing out as of late. "You know there's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do to help them...even if it means stealing from a colleague, and personal friend of my parents. We could be getting ahead of ourselves though. We don't even know if their researchers have hit on the right break-through we'd need to save Mike, or anyone else for that matter. But we have to try something, don't we?"

Marcus nodded vaguely. "Am I completely crazy for wondering if we _should_ be asking Caleb for help outright?"

Luke sighed. "In a perfect world where there were no uncertainties, I'd love to, Marc. Yet the fact remains that I haven't known Caleb in many years. My parents trusted him, and you'd think that would be enough…but when it comes to the guys, I just don't know. I'm not only considering the possible danger for them and Olivia, I'm thinking about Caleb too. This is one of those 'projects' that could end up being all consuming. I'm not that comfortable with the idea of him putting everything else aside the way that…well, the way that we have."

Marcus took a quiet breath. "We're already late, Luke. Are we going inside, or not?"

"Yeah." Luke climbed out of the car slowly.

Nerves assaulted his mind; they were the reason he'd made Marcus sit out in the car with him for the last thirty minutes, instead of going directly into the Institute. He was more uncomfortable to be doing this than he wanted to let on to the others.

Luke exhaled softly and straightened the collar on his shirt. _Act natural, Barrows. You're just here to find out the facts, get a tour of the property, and find out how close to mass reproductions of manipulated stem cells they are. That's not a tall order or anything, _he thought ironically.

Marc tapped a hand across Luke's back. "Let's go in, real casual like. We're here to meet Dr. Wells, and that's all anyone knows."

"Do you have your camera on?" Luke asked. He'd just remembered to adjust the tiny lens that was pinned to his_ own _shirt.

"Mine is on," Marcus answered.

Luke tried to shake off the remnants of anxiety as they entered around the reception desk. He immediately began scanning the space, searching for signs of security sensors and cameras. He remembered to turn slowly, so that he wouldn't distort the picture of the miniature camera lens on his lapel. Luke walked toward the desk, where a middle-aged woman was already on the phone. He had to wait a few seconds for her to finish before she looked at him.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Luke gave her the most relaxed smile he could muster. "My friend and I are here to meet Dr. Wells. Could you let him know that Luke Barrows and Marcus Sloan have arrived?"

"One moment please." She reached for her phone, and dialed a couple of numbers on the extension. After a pause, the woman spoke to someone on the other end. "Dr. Wells, please...No, that's fine. I can hold." She balanced the phone against her ear and glanced at Luke. "It's going to be a minute; he's tied up in something. You can have a seat if you like, and I'll deliver the message as soon as I speak with him."

Luke took a seat beside Marcus on a nearby bench, quietly tapping his foot while he watched the receptionist. A couple of minutes passed before he heard the woman repeating the news that they'd arrived over the phone.

She looked his direction as she hung up the receiver. "He apologizes for the delay; Dr. Wells is on his way." The woman produced a couple of security passes from a drawer in the desk and slid them across the counter in front of her. "Visitor passes are required within all restricted areas."

"So the Lab is completely closed to the public? Luke asked, as if making random conversation.

"Certain areas are accessible to students and the public, but only the technicians spend any real time in the Labs."

Luke shifted nervously from one foot to the other as he waited to catch sight of Caleb entering the door. He found himself suddenly focusing on the camera-like devices that were completely out of his reach. At least he _thought_ they were cameras. The devices were encased in what looked like tamper proof Plexiglas boxes, so that he couldn't get a very good look at them.

_All digital no doubt; they're probably running a continuous feed. I guess Don will need to find a way to deal with them. I don't think it should prove too difficult for Leo and Donny to get in - they're experienced at this after all. But the amount of guards on the premises could still prove to be tricky. This isn't going to be some simple mission where we can sneak in, and get right back out. Don and I need time to get through what's probably going to be a vast storehouse of information, and it's going to take a while._

Luke was lost in thought when Marcus nudged him in the side. Caleb Wells had just walked into the small waiting area.

"Luke, I'm so glad you could come." Caleb flashed a genuine smile. "How are you feeling?"

Luke hesitated. "Okay. It's been a rough couple of days." _That's probably the understatement of the century_, he added inwardly.

Caleb was studying him closely, concern etched in his forehead. "Have you been getting any rest, Luke?"

The blond doctor nodded. "As much as possible"

"You look worn out," Caleb observed. "What are you working on up on that mountain?"

"I didn't say anything about working," Luke replied quickly.

"Whatever you say, Luke." Caleb shook his head. "We don't have to do this informational overload right now. I wouldn't mind just spending some time with the two of you. We could get some late lunch. It's been a very busy day on my end; I could use a break too."

"Well, um...we're already here, and..." Luke grasped for an explanation as to why he was so eager to get a look at the facility _now_.

Marcus smiled smoothly. "Unfortunately, my time in Asheville is running short," he lied. "I'm supposed to be flying back with our pilot tomorrow morning, meaning this is going to be the only opportunity I'll have to see what you're working on. It sounds so fascinating; I would be disappointed to leave without getting this chance."

"Do you want the full tour, or should I give you the abridged version?" he asked jokingly.

"Full tour," both men proclaimed together, without even meaning to.

Caleb laughed out loud. "I don't recall seeing you this eager about many things, Luke. Well, I won't keep you in suspense. Follow me, and I'll give you the insider's view of where we work, and the projects we have on the front burners."

They walked behind Caleb as he led the way through double-pane glass doors.

"Your security measures seem sophisticated," Luke mentioned.

"Top of the line," Caleb replied. "We had a major upgrade about a year ago, after a bad break-in at the Institute. Our largest investor has become a little bit...paranoid. We have the latest in surveillance technology, not that it's any replacement for the eyes and ears that we're born with. There was another theft a couple of months after, and this one was an inside job. The manpower on the grounds itself was stepped up after that."

"Are you referring to onsite Security?" Marcus asked.

Caleb nodded. "It's partially just to satisfy our investor, but I have to admit that there's a call for it, given the luck we've had in the last year."

"How many guards do you keep on the property?" Luke ventured.

"The day shift has a rotation of six, and they had another three are added to that number in the evenings."

"You must be working on some very important things," Marcus said evenly.

Caleb sighed. "The equipment is expensive, custom designed for the reproduction experiments. A couple of the Labs got hit hard in the first break-in, and we lost some sensitive information in the second theft that was related to cloning research."

Luke shook his head. "Things are a lot more complicated than they used to be, aren't they?"

Caleb chuckled in return. "I think your parents had the right idea, Luke. Separate from the world, and just focus on your work. Not all of us have their resources though. Most people _have_ to rely on investors on some kind," he said impishly.

Luke caught Marcus looking at him out of the corner of his eye, and knew what his friend had to be wondering. "My mother made a couple of important discoveries chemically speaking, that ended up funding nearly all the further research that she and my father were working on," Luke explained to him.

"They did incredibly well on their own, especially given the fact that they could have been trust fund babies." Caleb laughed.

Luke winced, and the man must have realized that he'd said the wrong thing.

"Forgive me, Luke, I wasn't trying to make light of their upbringing. I think your parents were extraordinary people, and I always admired what they chose to do with their lives, when they could have had everything handed to them. They could have had it easy, and chose to work their fingers to the bone instead."

Marc's gaze boring through his right side was making Luke more uncomfortable by the second. "My parents came from high society money, Marcus," Luke admitted. "My grandfather on my mom's side was a CEO in a Communications company, which was cutting edge for their day. She was already set up with a large inheritance that guaranteed she could live the rest of her life as a woman of leisure if she chose to. My grandfather never fought her from getting the best schooling, even when she wanted to become a chemist.

"But he looked at her passion as more a hobby, and not a serious job. When she began to pursue it as her sole career, he threatened to cut her off completely. My mom never rose to the bait he was dangling, and even though he'd promised to leave her without a cent...My grandfather's heart was bigger than that. He loved my mom, and in the end, he gave her a bigger share of the stock than he'd promised to begin with.

"My father was the son of one of the company's corporate executives, but he turned out to be just as uninterested in the business world. My mother and father's desire to do something different with their lives was one of the things that united them right from the start."

"So both your parents _came _from money," Marcus said slowly.

"Yup," Luke said dismissively.

Caleb winked at him. "Luke's parents were down to earth folks, despite where they came from. They raised themselves a humble young man, who's never been interested in drawing attention to himself."

Luke cleared his throat. "All this talk about me and my family makes me feel like we're getting off the real subject here."

"My apologies, Luke." Caleb grinned. "It's been a long time since I've seen you, and you can't blame me for wanting to brag on you just a little."

"Right now, we're more interested in learning about _your_ accomplishments, Caleb. Tell us about the experiments you've been conducting over the last few months. You said you might be ready for some human trials in a couple of years," Luke said hopefully.

"That's dependent on several factors, and getting approval from the Boards is a key milestone to pass. There's so much red tape, you can't even picture it."

Luke grimaced. _Complications seem to greet us at every turn...and we can't afford to get slowed down by anything._

"In your opinion, do you think your research is close to being ready for real application?" Luke asked.

Caleb glanced at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm a little confused, Luke. You were in such a rush to leave Asheville when you got here, and it still feels like you're in a hurry_ now_. Is there something going on here that you need to tell me about? I mean, is everything all right with you?"

"Forgive me." Luke forced a calm tone over his voice. "I get a little over-eager sometimes."

"You get that particular trait from your father." Caleb smiled. "Then there's nothing wrong? This is purely a social visit?"

Luke nodded. "You peeked my interest the other day. You're dealing with a field I've always been fascinated by, and the opportunity to see your research is a real treat."

Caleb surveyed both men in turn. "Then I should get around to taking you where the magic actually happens. I only hope it doesn't disappoint you. Much of what we're working on is still in experimental phases, so I don't feel like I have anything spectacular to show off. Just a lot of grunt work."

When the man's arm came around Luke's shoulder, he was a little surprised.

"My door is open if you _do _need something, Luke. I hope you realize that. I know you've been through a lot in the last few days, and you still don't look quite right to me. You have to try and get some rest, for yourself, and for that lovely wife and baby of yours."

Luke smiled, but inwardly, he wanted to kick himself._ I hope the footage we're capturing does Donatello some good, because God knows I'm doing a bang up job of keeping a low profile. I thought I was up for this challenge, but I'm seriously starting to question myself._


	59. Harder

***Forgot to mention it a couple chaps back, but you guys have helped me cross another mile-stone. Thanks for all the reviews and the love. There are many things that I love about fan fiction, but the interaction with all of you is one of my favorites. Thanks.**

* * *

><p>As Donatello rewound a piece of footage, Leonardo took the opportunity to get his true opinion on the Genetic Institute.<p>

"Tell me what you're thinking, Don. I know you can get us in there; it's only a question of timing."

"It's a little more than that," Donatello answered. "Time _is_ going to be an issue, but I'm a little more concerned about the men on the property. We need to go in hands-off, not only because it would be morally wrong to attack them, but because of the risk of discovery. We're going to need several minutes inside the Lab...and that's a long time for this type of operation."

"We need to avoid notice, but shutting off their security sensors isn't an option either, is it?" Leo wondered. "If everything starts failing at once, isn't that a dead giveaway that something weird is going on?"

"If we turned _all_ of them off, yes. But if we focus on one small grid at a time, it probably wouldn't be noticeable, at least, not at first. It's the same tactic we used on Stolle when we went after Raph."

"Except that you'd already cracked his network with your virus, and he figured out that we were there anyway," Leonardo pointed out.

"I didn't say the plan was flawless, Leo. My intentions revolve more around using a particular type of electronic disruptor, a device similar to what Sayuri used to break into HijutoChem in Okinawa."

"And she and Greg got caught too, if you recall," the blue-masked turtle said dryly.

"That was through no fault of the machine," Don protested. "C'mon, Leo, work with me here. I'm still strategizing."

"I know. I'm just trying to point out what could go wrong."

"How about you give me something useful that I can work with?"

Leonardo smiled, despite the sharpness in his brother's tone. "You're up for any challenge, and I know you'll find a way to get us in undetected."

"I'm thinking that the disruptor is the way to go."

"Explain the machine to me. I know it knocks out cell phones-"

"That's what it may have been originally designed for, but it can honestly do a lot more than that, Leo."

"Will it get the job done, Don?"

The purple-masked turtle nodded. "We're going to be taking a hit to our own equipment at the same time though, anything digital, electronic. We'll be operating just as blindly as anyone trying to detect us."

"Does that concern you?"

"I don't enjoy the thought of losing the use of my scanner, our watches and phones, but it's temporary."

"Can you control how wide-spread the electrical knock-out is?"

"The physical proximity of the disruptor with the devices it's interrupting is the key. They have to share a common electromagnetic field. The disruptor knocks out electronics by producing interference on the shared frequency. In essence, the lack of compatibility between the disruptor and the devices in question is what causes them to shut down. It's only effective within the short range of the shared electromagnetic field."

"So that means that we'll be in a consistent state of electrical blindness, the entire time we're inside?"

Donatello shook his head. "Why do you think I've never wanted to use the disruptor in an operation before? In this case, however, I'm already getting the chance to see the lay-out before we go in, and Luke is coming with us. Between the two of us, we ought to be able to find what we need without following a schematic."

Leonardo rested his chin in his hands. "This was Luke's first time in there today. Is he certain we're ready for this?"

"So he says, Leo. We've got the footage along with a couple of override codes to use, thanks to Luke and Marcus. By combining the different angles the two of them took, we even got clear views of several key pad combinations."

"What about the key _card_?"

"Luke swiped a visitor's pass from the Institute. It's only programmed to work in a couple of places, but with some manipulation, I think I can get it to work in the restricted areas."

"You think you can?"

"We'll be playing this by ear a little bit. Can you accept not knowing exactly what we're doing before we get in there?"

Leo grinned. "Do I have a choice?"

Don shook his head. "We've certainly broken into more difficult spots, Leo. If we weren't trying so hard to avoid human contact, this wouldn't be that difficult."

"Can we actually be ready this quickly?"

Donatello nodded. "As soon as tomorrow, which I'm assuming is what you were hoping for."

Leonardo exhaled. "It would feel good to be doing_ something_. This sitting around is about to drive me out of my mind."

Donatello pushed away from the computer screen. "I know it's a helpless feeling, Leo. I wish..." He broke off, casting a long look at the monitor. "We're used to doing things, Bro. None of us like to sit on the sidelines. But maybe...we should try _being_ there for Mike, instead of just _doing _things for him, y'know?"

The blue-masked turtle sank further in his chair. "This is my nightmare, Don, we're living it right now. I know how to fight. I know how to plan. I _don't _know how to encourage Mike."

"Especially since he seems to be dealing with this better than the rest of us are, huh?"

Leonardo fixed his gaze on the floor, and didn't reply.

"Leo, I know it freaked you out that Mike seemed to accept it so easily, but he's not giving up," Donatello told him. "He's doing what he's always done best, which is trying to find the silver lining in a rotten storm cloud. I didn't help matters the other day, and I'm sorry for that. But we're still in this together, and that's the important thing. You don't have to know all the right things to say to him. Just don't try to avoid him."

Leonardo rubbed his throbbing temples. "I had no idea it would be this hard," he admitted. "I thought losing Sensei was the worst thing we could go through, but the thought of losing Mike this way..." He trailed off so that he wouldn't reinforce the emotional response he was feeling.

Donatello nodded. "I understand, Leo, I do."

The blue-masked turtle looked up. "I know this is difficult, but I need you to be straight with me. Do you still feel like this is hopeless, or is there some _minuscule_ belief in the back of your mind that Mike could have a chance?"

"Where there's life, there's always hope, Leo. Until this thing has run it's full course, I'm going to keep trying to beat it. As for whether it will work or not...you know I can't answer that. I haven't seen the research, and I don't know if it's ready to be applied."

The flat tone in the purple-masked turtle's voice disturbed Leonardo more than his tears had the other day.

"Don, I'm sorry," he said suddenly.

His brother's brown eyes focused on him. "For what?"

"For the ungodly amount of pressure that's been heaped on your shoulders. None of us can single-handedly save the world, and we don't expect you to be able to pull miracles out of your shell either. If the worst happens, I hope you can find a way not to blame yourself for it. I've been tough on you, sometimes demanding answers as if you'd try to hide something from us. I've been wrong, Bro, and I'm sorry for making this harder on _you_."

Donny shook his head. "You don't want anything less than _I'd_ want in your position."

Leonardo wanted to ask him again if he believed in his heart that Mike could make it, but forced himself to refrain. _Don's not going to quit on Mike. I just have to figure out the best way to support _both_ of them._

There was a light knock in the Lab door, and Leonardo looked over his shoulder to see Calley. The blond woman ventured inside with a thermos in hand, and offered it to the purple-masked turtle.

"The girls and I decided giving you the whole coffee pot at once would be more time effective than running refills up and down those flights of stairs. Plus this way, it will stay hot for hours," she told him.

Donatello smiled as he took the thermos from her. "Thanks. With you girls around, I'm probably going to forget how to work the coffee maker for myself."

"Jen said she was going to check on you in the next hour or so, and you'd better be ready to eat by then," she said mock-threateningly.

"I will be," he replied. "That should give me enough time to map out our route inside the building, and after a break I can get back to work on the disruptor."

"Tell me you're not building the thing from scratch." Leonardo groaned.

"Define _scratch_, Leo."

Leonardo shook his head. "Just make sure you get some sleep too."

"I already have a prototype - it only needs some tweaking. Don't worry, Leo. We have time."

Leonardo noticed Calley lingering out of the corner of his eye. "I'll check on your progress later, and we can talk about how we're getting inside."

Donatello gave him a thumbs up, and turned back around in his chair as Leonardo left with Calley.

"Donny seems better," she commented.

"It helps to have something to do," Leo told her. "It makes a difference for all of us. There's nothing worse than sitting around and waiting for the inevitable, powerless."

He avoided Calley's gaze as they descended the stairs, and started to head toward the kitchen. The young woman caught him by the arm, and pulled him back toward the hall.

"Are we _ever_ going to talk about this, Leo?"

The turtle wanted to evade her eyes, but he knew he couldn't continue to do that. "It doesn't help," he said quietly. "I don't think there's anything I could say to encourage you, except what's already been said. We're not giving up on Mike. We're going after a solution, as far-fetched as it might be."

"I understand that much," she said. "What I _don't_ understand is why you won't talk about how you feel with me."

"Calley, it isn't...I'm not...There are things I don't want to say yet, that I don't want to even think about. Talking about it only makes it more real in my mind, and brings back memories like they only happened yesterday."

"Memories of what?"

"Sensei...Our last couple of months with him."

"Is that why you're avoiding this?"

"I'm not trying to avoid it, or _you_. I'm not ready to go back there, Calley. Talking about Splinter is one thing, but remembering those final days is something else entirely." Leonardo hesitated, and glanced at the door in the Great Room that led outside to the porch. "Come with me," he invited her to follow him. He smiled when he noticed Calley yank a blanket off the couch as they crossed the room, and she tossed it at his shell.

"The last thing you need is to get all cold again," she remarked.

Leonardo sat down on one of the built-in benches on the deck, drawing the blanket firmly over his chest. The night air wasn't quite cold enough to see his breath, but it still wasn't comfortable to be exposed.

"What are you avoiding about the end of things with Splinter?" she asked.

"We had several months of warning leading up to Sensei's death. We knew it was coming, and I _thought _we were more prepared for it than we actually were. There were a few days when I didn't know if we were going to make it, Calley."

Her dark brown eyes gazed at him imploringly, but she didn't say anything.

"You could say that it was hard on all of us," Leonardo continued. "But Donny...he retreated to this awful place that still scares me to think about. Seeing how he reacted after finding out about Mike...I don't know what it would do to Don, but it wouldn't be good."

"But you made it," she pointed out. "Even though it felt like you wouldn't. I don't want to imagine what it would be like to lose Mikey either, but I still know something about your family. None of you abandon each other, and no one is allowed to descend into a dark pit by themselves. You never stopped reaching out to Donny, did you? Something must have worked, because he came back to himself."

Leonardo nodded slowly. "I've always known that this...what the four of us have together couldn't last forever. But I'm not ready for the separation yet. I'm not ready to do this _again_."

The blue-masked turtle lowered his head as tears came to his eyes. Her arm searched for him underneath the blanket, until her fingers hooked around his wrist. Calley didn't speak, but rested silently against his side until Leonardo drew both arms around her.

"Do you have any sense about this, Calley?"

"Intuition, you mean?" she murmured. "I can't pretend to have some vision of the future, Leo. I wish I could see it, and tell you that everything will be all right. What I _feel_ right now is that there's still some kind of plan involved, even if we don't understand it. I don't believe this is the end...and you don't either."

He shook his head. "If we start accepting that, we might actually fall apart. I'd rather focus on the interesting task of raiding the Genetic Institute. It has to be beat waiting around here."


	60. Monitors

Donatello leaned all the way forward in the car seat so that he could work with his scanner, and still stay out of sight on the off chance that someone was watching the van too closely.

"Do you remember where we need to go?" Leo asked.

The purple-masked turtle nodded. "Between Luke and I, I'm fairly certain we can locate the right Lab...or what he _believes_ is the right Lab."

"What about the disruptor, Donny?" Luke called from up front.

"It will do its job, but I'm getting more concerned about taking the cameras down," he said honestly.

"I thought the device would knock out all the electrical gadgets in its range, Don." Greg sounded confused.

"That's what it's designed to do," Donatello affirmed. "The problem is that it feels a little obvious to me. You told me there's someone watching the monitor feed, Doc. If they notice all these successive systems shutting down, I think it would give us away."

"Yeah, I see what you're saying, Don." Luke nodded uneasily. "If they're paying attention to the feed, they'll pick up that something is amiss."

The blue-masked turtle's eye ridges rose. "Then what are we doing here? It sounds like we'll have trouble if we don't use the disruptor, and we'll still be in trouble if we _do_ use it."

"I have to fool them into thinking they're seeing something that they're _not _seeing," Donatello replied. "I'd like to try and loop some old security footage, so that they're watching a normal night, instead of what will actually be going on. Time is our biggest enemy on this operation. We have to stall them long enough to get what we've come out for."

"The Security headquarters is attached to the main building, but it has a separate entrance too. I'm sorry I couldn't get a look inside," Luke apologized. "I had a hard enough time not raising Caleb's suspicion over us as it was. How did the key card work out for you, Don?"

Donatello grinned. "It's a thing of beauty, Doc, it really is. Wiping the strip took me the longest, but I think we've got a true skeleton key now. I have a slew of different security codes to go along with it, based off the footage you and Marc collected. You guys did a great job capturing the codes as they were entering them, by the way."

"So what's the first step?" Greg asked.

"We have to get inside the Security Central, find their surveillance room, and crack their footage. I think you and Doc need to leave that part to me and Leo."

Greg threw a look at him in the rearview mirror. "I resent that." He only sounded half serious.

"I know you do, Heff, but we need to be light and quick. I need Leo to act as a distraction to get the room emptied, to give me enough time to manipulate their software."

"Aren't those videos time-stamped, Donny?" Greg asked. "They'll be able to tell that the footage is old."

"They'd still have to look closely to notice the dates," Don replied. "I'm not saying they won't figure it out - I'm certain that they _will_. But all I need to do is buy us enough time to complete some massive research in the Lab. Hopefully no one will notice what I've done until it's too late to catch us in the act."

Donatello swallowed as he noticed the shadowy outline of the Institute down the block from the direction in which the van was traveling.

"No razor wire, no perimeter fence," Leonardo observed. "Are we making a bigger deal out of their security than we should be?"

"That's what they _want _you to think, Leo," Luke said. "I hope we're ready for this."

The older turtle shot Luke a lopsided grin. "Don't worry about a thing, Doc. Breaking and entering is one of our specialties."

Donatello took another moment to double-check his equipment, before yanking the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. "Once I've activated the disruptor, that's it. We won't be able to make contact with you, or you with us."

Greg nodded solemnly. "I guess you guys are going to have to keep yourselves out of trouble then."

The two turtles disappeared against the backdrop of a building, about a quarter of a mile from the entrance to the Institute. Donatello kept a sharp eye out for the best way in, while Leonardo watched his flank from behind.

"You've got the key, so the side door is an option." His brother motioned toward an entrance.

Donny shook his head. "I want to avoid using the disruptor until we have to, because it stands such a risk of garnering us negative attention. I don't want them to recognize that cameras are going out." He glanced up at the building they were pressed against.

"Are you thinking of trying the roof?"

"For this part at least. I can attempt to use the sensor on my scanner - it should be able to pick up where the greatest amount of energy is being expended. That should get us to their monitoring center."

"Makes sense. Lead the way, Don."

The purple-masked turtle was grateful for the cloudy night, though they would have stuck to the shadows to avoid the light of the moon in any case. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he scaled the building, and climbed onto the flat rooftop without any difficulty.

_This feels awfully simple, but there's no way I'm going to say that out loud__. _

Leonardo crouched silently beside him as Donatello sensed movement below. Two men were completing a circuit of the perimeter of the property, and one of them had a radio in his hand. The turtles ducked lower to the flat surface and stayed absolutely still as the men continued in their chosen course. Neither rose until the men were out of sight, and even then they remained hunched over, not daring to stand up straight.

The purple-masked turtle drew his scanner from his belt and began taking temperature readings, searching for a hot spot that would indicate a buildup of energy. They tread carefully across the roof for several minutes, before Don located a promising source of heat output.

"I'm pretty sure their monitoring center is close by, and I think we can probably access it from above. There should be some kind of an attic or crawl space underneath us."

"How do you figure that?" Leo asked.

"There's a common practice of running internet cable and wiring through that type of space, and the external vents I noticed while we were scaling this building suggests a dehumidifier is in use."

"And you think there would be roof access to the crawl space?"

"Probably. I mean, I think it would make sense to a technician to have a point of entry from up here. We need to look around some more." Donatello turned on his flashlight, and kept the beam low to the rooftop. "Look, but also _feel. _It might be another vent, or there could be some kind of trap door."

The blue-masked turtle wandered away from him slightly to perform his own search, and Donatello ran his hand across the roof as he started looking for a possible way in as well. His older brother had walked about six paces, when he waved back at Donatello.

"I've got a metal door with a padlock," Leo hissed.

Donatello came to join him. "Let's not destroy the lock. I can probably pick it, and they'll never need to know anyone came in this way."

"You _are_ Houdini after all." Leonardo chuckled. "Have you met a lock you couldn't pick?"

Donatello smiled back in the scant beam of his flashlight. "No sweat, bro. Give me a minute here."

He slid one of his specially designed pins into the padlock, carefully moving it around until he felt the object hook the mechanism in the right direction.

"Okay," Donatello said quietly, projecting all business now. "I'm going in, and you can follow me. Watch your step. It's probably not the strongest material known to mankind. We don't want to fall through."

Don lowered himself through the trap door slowly, and discovered there wasn't much room to maneuver inside the space. He turned his flashlight across the attic to get a look around, as he attempted to avoid breathing in the dust. He crawled a few feet away from the door to give Leonardo room to descend, and a small cloud of dust announced his brother's arrival, followed by a muffled cough.

"Try not to breathe it in, Leo," Don called softly.

"_Now_ you tell me. What do we do now?"

"There must be another way into the building through the crawl space. It could be another trap door like the one you found on the roof, or a simple cover like a vent. We just have to look."

Donatello barely resisted the urge to sneeze, as he carefully tried to dispel the dust lingering in the air._ I didn't think we'd need the oxis just to sneak inside the building, _he thought ruefully. He kept going on his hands and knees, until he noticed light streaming into the space from down below. Quietly he approached the source of the light, and gazed over the edge of the vent cover.

He took a sharp breath when he saw the room, and someone sitting directly beneath him. He watched as the man shifted wearily in his seat, and the back of it squealed in protest.

"What is it?" Leo asked.

"There's someone down there. I'm going to try and get a closer look." The purple-masked turtle held his breath as he leaned over further, and tried to glimpse more of the room. The vision of the wall filled with monitors made him feel like pumping his fist. "We're in great position," he whispered excitedly. "This is exactly where we need to be. Now if we can just get rid of this character for a little while...Any ideas, Leo?"

Leonardo cocked his head thoughtfully. "Do you think you'd need much time at the monitor?"

Donny shrugged. "I'm not sure. I have to physically see the program."

"I've got a trick to hopefully get him to leave, and then I'll keep watch in case we get more company. Do you see a phone down there, Don?"

Donatello peered around the room, and noticed the black handset sitting on the desk. "I see one."

"Can you get a close up on any of the numbers?"

"What's up your sleeve, Leo?"

"Just look, will you?"

Donatello withdrew his digital binoculars, and zoomed in slowly on the phone. The device had several labeled buttons with various phone numbers, and yet another labeled number was emblazoned across the top of it. "I think I have the phone number, Leo," he mentioned. He read the numbers off to his brother, and watched Leonardo pull out his phone.

"What are you going to do, ask him to go away?" Donatello asked.

"Stay here, okay? I'm moving away from the vent so the guy won't be able to hear me talking."

Donatello watched, mystified, while his brother crawled out of sight, and he didn't have to wait long before he heard the phone ringing below him.

"This is Wilson," the guard answered. "What? No, I didn't order your pizza...You're _where_? You couldn't possibly be there."

The man's fingers flew across the keys, drowning out his voice for a moment. "No, I don't see you there. Of all the preposterous...I don't care if you_ do _lose your job! If I find you trying to get inside, you'll lose a lot more than that, you little..."

The guard slammed down the phone and picked up his radio. "Positions 2 and 4, be advised. We may have an uninvited guest on the premises. I'm going to take a look around front, and I'll be in touch, over." Wilson cursed under his breath as he stalked out of the room.

Donatello waited until he heard the door click before he tried moving the vent, and leaped silently to the floor. He dropped into the desk chair, but couldn't resist looking over his shoulder at Leonardo before getting to work. "Pizza delivery, Leo?"

The blue-masked turtle shrugged. "I was trying to think like the Master Distracter."

"Mike would be proud." Donatello looked back at the screen in front of him and laughed. "That guy didn't even log out. This is going to be a cinch."

"Good. Get it done," Leonardo encouraged him. "I'll go keep watch in case he gets tired of chasing the imaginary pizza boy."


	61. Entrance

Luke wasn't prepared for the knock on the back of the minivan, and the way Greg jumped a mile, it seemed like he wasn't expecting it either. Leonardo ducked around the driver's side a couple of seconds later. "We're set with the decoy on the camera loop. We should get moving."

"Geesh, Leo," Greg complained. "You could have warned us you were coming or something."

"I figured you'd be watching for us," the blue masked turtle returned impishly.

"As if_ watching _would help?" Luke spoke up. "If we were able to see you coming, that would mean someone else could too. You don't operate that way."

Leonardo gave them a grin along with his shrug. "C'mon. Let's go."

Luke climbed out the passenger door, shaking off the tremor that was threatening. _Why did I insist on coming with them? This isn't my specialty at all. But I feel responsible for it, since it's Caleb's Lab and all. _A pang of guilt overtook him before he could squash it. _We don't have a choice, _he reminded himself. _We're not selling his research, or taking anything away from it. We're appropriating the information we need to save a life. Period._

Luke's eyes hardened defiantly as he rose out of the jolt of conscience, and he continued following Greg, bringing up the rear of the group. To his surprise, Leonardo doubled back to join him.

"Are you supposed to be at the _head_ of the group?" Luke asked. "I'm new to this espionage, I realize, but I thought you were the leader of this band."

The turtle chuckled. "Not when it comes to all things technical, Doc - you know that. Don is responsible for getting us into the building undetected, and I'm responsible for making sure that you and Greg don't accidentally give us away in the process."

Luke snorted quietly. "It sounds like you have a lot of confidence in us. What did you drag me along on this trip for?"

"You_ made _us bring you, Doc."

"As if I could make you do anything, Leo."

Leonardo looked over his shoulder at the van. "It's not too late for you to wait in the car," he said seriously.

"Forget it," Luke replied firmly. "I said I was going in with you, and I need to be there. This was my plan, my doing...and Caleb is _my_ friend."

"No one would blame you for feeling guilty about this, Doc," Leo said. "We don't like doing it either."

Luke set his face on watching where Donatello was going. "It is what it is, Leo. We're not ripping him off. We're getting his help without asking him for it."

His heart beat faster as they approached the Institute, and Donny steered them away from the path a roving flashlight was cutting across the property. The purple-masked turtle flattened against the building, and Luke followed Greg's example as the other man crouched close to the ground. He resisted the urge to speak, realizing that now was _not_ the time to start asking questions.

Luke felt a little better the instant Leonardo landed beside him, as the turtle gave him an encouraging smile. _If he's grinning, everything must be going according to plan. _The blue-masked turtle nudged him, and Luke realized that Donatello and Greg were moving again. _Don't get lost in your thoughts, Barrows. Keep your head out of the clouds._

He tried to move his feet carefully across the ground, but inevitably kicked up small stones as he walked. They may as well have been boulders to his hypersensitive nerves. He felt Leonardo hovering behind him, but the turtle never said anything about it.

_I guess if I really screw up, he'll find some way to let me know._

Donatello disappeared around a corner, with Greg only inches behind him. Luke started to follow, when Leonardo suddenly caught him by the sleeve, and yanked him down behind an air-conditioning unit.

"Don_, company_," the turtle hissed.

Luke held his breath to stop his chest from heaving, while a pair of flashlights crossed dangerously close to their hidden position. The men went by uneventfully, and Luke exhaled quietly.

"I am not cut out for this," he murmured.

"You're doing fine, Doc. Hang in there. Don is going to find us a door, and we'll be inside soon," Leo told him.

Greg peered around the blind side of the corner. "He's working on one as we speak," he informed them.

They waited in baited silence, within which Luke kept imagining that the guards would be coming back to bust him and Leonardo hiding there. It felt like an eternity had passed before Greg returned.

"The door's open, and we need to move fast," he announced.

Luke didn't understand the sudden urgency, but he rapidly obeyed, and Leonardo closed the door behind them.

Donny quietly called for everyone's attention. "I've activated the disruptor, so say goodbye to your electronic devices."

Donatello was handling an interesting device that Luke had never even seen until the night before. The man pulled out his cell phone just out of curiosity, nodding with approval when he discovered the device had died.

"The phone being dead is a good thing?" Luke verified.

"It means I shut down the correct frequency. I've set the monitoring center up with footage from last week that's on a corresponding time loop with the correct hour. That means they won't be watching the real feed, or noticing the cameras failing over the next few minutes," Don replied. "C'mon up here with me, Doc. We need to find this Lab and get to work."

"So everything leading up to this point doesn't qualify as work?" Luke asked ironically.

Donatello smiled. "Capturing the flag is the work, Doc. Everything else is just part of the intrigue."

Luke caught himself watching the motion sensors and cameras, despite the appearance that they weren't operating. Even though all of his companions had maintained a sense of humor between them, Luke noticed that they stayed absolutely silent. His own feet felt heavy and ponderous, and he regretted once more his desire to join in their spy game.

_This is certainly not my forte; I should have let Kat do this. She probably could have been more of an actual asset to them._

"Does this look like the right way to you, Doc?" Don asked.

Luke glanced around, studying the hallway that seemed so similar to many others. He looked further ahead, and saw the glass doors that he recalled from the day before. "We're on the right track, Donny. The Labs are through this connecting portion."

Yesterday there had been someone manning the small desk inside the glassed in portion that separated the Institute from the connecting Labs, but tonight it was dark and empty. The absence of bright lights made Luke naturally feel safer. Donatello drew a flashlight next to him as they moved into the darkened corridor. He handed it to Luke, and the man held it up for him while the turtle got the door opened with the access card.

"What happens to the electronics when your disruptor is out of range?" Luke asked.

"They come back on like nothing happened," Donny answered.

"Why doesn't the disruptor affect the key pads, or even the lights? They're all electrical, right?"

"Different frequencies," Don replied. "It's honed in on very specific parameters that most commonly affect the devices we needed to shut down."

Luke nodded with understanding, and glanced back at Leonardo and Greg. The man looked completely calm, and the blue-masked turtle was alert. Leonardo never stopped scanning their surroundings, even as Donatello led the way out of the strange glass chamber into the hall on the other side.

"Which way, Doc?"

"I'm pretty sure I remember it being three doors on the left."

Luke had an avid sense of unreality as he walked behind Donatello down the dim hallway. _This doesn't feel real. It's like some kind of movie I've seen over and over with the hero on the move...Only I don't feel anything like a hero. I feel like the guy who shouldn't even be here._

As he and Donatello passed inside a Lab, Leonardo hesitated on the other side.

"We'll watch from the hall," Leo volunteered.

"Keep the door_ open_, Leo," Donatello called sharply.

"There's no Akiudo here, Don." Luke swore he heard Leonardo chuckle.

"I don't care. You're not allowed to separate yourself from me at any time or place, particularly inside creepy Labs."

Luke gave the purple-masked turtle a sidelong glance. "Creepy? You're not nervous too, are you?"

"Just an expression, Doc," Donatello said distractedly, as he took a seat by a monitor. "Now this is where the work really begins...and I hardly know where to start."

After getting two different computers logged in, Donatello set Luke to work on one of them, skimming information at a rate that made the man feel like his mind was on overload. He'd only been reading for a few minutes when the weight of the volumes of research hit him like a load of bricks.

"This is intense, Donny," he said out loud. "I mean, I studied a couple of semesters of genetics in medical school, but this is like advanced rocket scientist type jazz. How are you getting through it over there?"

The turtle looked up briefly. "It's all very complicated, and it's hard to tell what we're going to need. I'm not even sure if the correct research is on this hard drive. I guess we're going to have to copy everything we can get our hands on, and hope for the best," he told him. "I brought a number of my external flash drives. Let's stop reading and start downloading."

Luke caught one of the drives as he tossed it to him. "I feel like I'm violating someone," he admitted.

Donny nodded, though he didn't look his direction.

_If only my parents could see me now_, Luke thought glumly. _I don't want to imagine what they'd think of this_.

He waited for the drive to format itself, and begin the tedious process of copying. Donatello's souped up drives could hold vast reams of information, but it took_ time _to unload the whole hard drive, no matter how fast his creation reproduced it. The download was still continuing as they hit the one hour mark for the amount of time they'd spent inside the Institute.

_I don't like this. I don't care how quiet it's been - I don't like it. I want to get out of here so badly, I can hardly stand it._

Luke began to check the amount of time the flash drive had left before completion, and was startled when Greg jerked the door open further.

"Someone's coming. Grab your stuff, guys, because we have to go."

Luke ripped the unfinished drive out of the CPU and hurried to give it to Donatello, who was rushing to put his equipment away.

"I need a few more seconds here!" the turtle said. "I have to cover our tracks on both computers."

"Finish it, Don, you'll have that much time," Greg assured him before plunging back into the hallway.

"What are we doing?" Luke blurted out.

"We can't fight them, so flight is our option," Leonardo replied.

"I'm with you guys on that, so make sure you follow it through," Greg said pointedly.

Luke stared aghast for a moment as the man took off in the direction of the footsteps echoing down the hallway. He didn't take any time to think about it before he dashed after Greg.

"What are you doing?" he asked Greg.

"What's it look like? They know someone's here, so I'm giving them their bogey. You shouldn't be following me!"

"Are you the designated sacrifice on this mission?"

"Sure, Luke, we all take our turns. I drew the straw on this round, so-" Greg cut off sharply as three uniformed men appeared in their path. The man swore under his breath as Luke froze at his side. "Don't say _anything_," he whispered fiercely. "Not a word, Luke, understand?"

Luke's heart jumped in his chest as they were ordered against the wall. _I get Greg's point. If they have us, they won't pursue the guys. Please, please let them get out of here while they still can._


	62. Busted

Leonardo was having a difficult time keeping himself calm and preventing a fuming Donatello from getting too loud.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid_! We were in too much of a hurry to get in here. We should have taken our time; I could have given myself the opportunity to create a more elaborate ruse than the time loop on their monitoring system." The purple-masked turtle was talking so fast that his words were running together.

"How do you know that's what set them off?" Leonardo asked.

"I saw one of them fussing with a camera, Leo, which means they _know_ they weren't working correctly."

The two turtles were following the men who'd taken Luke and Greg into custody from a careful distance. Leonardo was dismayed to see three more men join the first group that was escorting them. He rolled his eyes in frustration as he peered around the corner of the hallway, then he glanced at the mounted camera on the wall.

"Hang on, Don. If they're on to us, does that mean they can _see_ us right now?"

"No, Leo, because I've got the disruptor on. Those men didn't come to investigate the Lab because they _saw_ something, Bro. They came because they noticed that all the cameras leading this direction had been on the fritz, and the one inside the Lab was blocked."

"We'll have to sue them for being vigilant," Leonardo said dryly. "Whatever happened to the unobservant men who can't see their own hand in front of their faces?"

"Those men didn't get hired. Leo, what are we going to _do_? We could take those guards down, but they're carrying guns, and they're only doing their jobs. We can't justify attacking them."

"I think they already took their wallets anyway." Leonardo shook his head. "If either of them were carrying ID, then they already know who they are, and it really _is _over. Breaking Luke and Greg out would only result in an APB, pointing directly back to Lotus Salvus. We can't afford to force Doc to go on the lam."

"We can't afford for them to sacrifice themselves to jail either!"

"What can they prove besides trespassing, Don? Anything?"

"I don't think so. I removed our signatures from the computers, and the disruptor wasn't invasive with the security systems. _I'm _carrying the proof of the information we stole. But what are we going to do, Leo?" he repeated.

"I know what we _should_ do," the blue-masked turtle muttered. "Get back to the van and run to the high ground."

"But we're not doing that, are we?"

Leonardo shook his head. "I don't see how we can just leave them." He paused to peer down the hall again, and looked at Donatello. "I think they're heading back outside."

Without another word Leo started moving stealthily down the corridor, and he sensed his brother following behind him. They cautiously slipped out of the building, and looked around for the security guards with their friends in tow. They'd allowed the men to get a sufficient distance away before going after them, to cut down on the chances of being seen.

After spotting them several yards out, Leonardo turned to Donny. "Can you get a better look at them through your binoculars?"

The purple-masked turtle fiddled with the zoom, and looked at them through the view finder. "If I had to guess, I'd say they're heading back toward that Security Center."

Leonardo cocked his head. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Attic?"

"You read my mind. Let's get back up there, and see if there's anything we can do."

The two turtles slid rapidly around the perimeter of the building, clinging to the shadows to keep their approach from being seen.

_Why didn't I stop Greg from taking off that way? I should have known what he was up to. I don't want those two to burn for trying to help_ us_, _Leonardo thought regretfully. His heart skipped when he heard sirens in the distance. _Please, God, tell me those cops aren't on their way here. We were too rash. Donny's right - we should have taken our time and planned this better, instead of acting like it would be a piece of cake. Shell, they can't take the fall because of us!_

Leonardo led the way up the side of the building, dropping onto the flat roof with an air of disgust. _Just because we're not dealing with a real enemy doesn't mean we aren't facing a real _threat_. Don and I should have come alone; end of story. If they end up in jail, I'm going to kick myself._

The blue-masked turtle waited for Donny to join him before he headed for the same trap door that they'd used the last time. The padlock was still waiting neatly _beside_ the door, and Leonardo wasted no time in dropping inside the crawl space. He remembered _not_ to breathe in the cloud of dust, and inched forward on his hands and knees.

_What are we doing here? It's crazy. Unless we're willing to make fugitives out of them, what can we possibly do to help?_

He automatically headed for the vent, freezing when he heard a loud accusing voice.

"...We're going to get answers, one way or another. What were you doing in there? What did you take?"

The voice was as self-righteous as any Leonardo had ever heard, and he recognized it. _Wilson._

Leo stole a glimpse of the room below, and caught sight of two men. Wilson was pacing, acting agitated, while the other was seated at the desk, and merely looked incredulous.

"We caught you red-handed this time," the calmer one said. "You're not going to get away with it."

"'Red-handed' would imply that you caught us taking something - and you didn't." Greg's self-assured persona was intact; Leonardo couldn't see the man, but was somewhat comforted by that fact.

"You searched us," Greg continued. "We have nothing."

"That doesn't mean you weren't doing anything!" Wilson was on the verge of exploding. "You broke in here-"

"Did you find anything broken?" Greg challenged. "You're operating on your own theories, and you don't have anything solid to back them up."

"You're on private property, and that's enough to get you on trespassing," the sitting man replied. "The police will be here soon, and they can sort all of this out."

Leonardo cringed. _Well, what did you expect? That they'd give them a slap on the wrist and send them on their way? Get real._

He stole a look at his purple-masked brother, and saw Donny balling his fists angrily.

"We can't let this happen, Leo. We can't."

"I wonder what your 'friend' Dr. Wells will have to say about your activities here," Wilson said threateningly. "That's right, I had them run your ID. We know you were here the other day. _He_ had a rather rude awakening tonight too."

A blast over the radio had the man at the desk rising to his feet. "The police are here. I hope you already have your one phone call in mind."

Leonardo exhaled deeply as he considered ripping the vent cover out, and going to retrieve Luke and Greg himself. Instead he silently burned, more angry with himself than the self-important men who were guarding the facility. _They did their jobs tonight, _he thought bitterly. _I don't believe this is happening. How are we going to face Kat? _

Leo stiffened when he heard the door to the hallway open, and footsteps enter the room. _This is not good. Not good at all._ Watching two of their best friends getting read their rights was one of the worst experiences Leonardo had ever had.

* * *

><p>Luke was doing his best to put on a strong face, but it was all he could do to keep himself from outright panicking. Greg kept shooting him reassuring looks, but Luke wasn't convinced. <em>He didn't bring his badge, and he hasn't even tried to play the FBI card. Greg doesn't want his Agent identity tied up in all of this. Darn it, we were so stupid...<em>

Being led out the door in handcuffs was one of the most humiliating things he'd ever been through, until he got out into the hallway, and saw the running figure of Caleb Wells. _Can this get any worse right now, really?_

"Wait a minute!" The older man was breathless and sounded like he'd been running for several blocks. "Just...hold on." Caleb was puffing so hard that he couldn't say anything else immediately.

"Sir, you are..." One of the policemen started.

"Dr. Wells. I'm one of the Lab Coordinators. There's been a mistake - these men aren't trespassing."

Luke's eyes widened out of reflex, but he fought to get the reaction under control.

"Sir, we were informed that Security found them in an unauthorized area, and that equipment has been tampered with-" the same cop went on.

"We didn't tamper, and we didn't break in," Greg inserted. "Ask the guards. Make them show you forced entry. There's no evidence that we've done anything."

"What about the cameras, the motion detectors?" the irate security guard demanded. "They were turned off, interfered with! And the main monitors were switched onto an old feed!"

"How do you propose we did any of those things?" Greg asked. "We have no equipment, and we've never even been inside this part of the building! Give the police one shred of proof of wrong-doing on our part."

"We caught you outside the Lab-" the softer spoken guard pointed out.

"They had my permission to be there," Caleb interrupted smoothly. "Not that I expected them to be here _this_ late, but I did warn Security that my associate Dr. Barrows would be paying the Lab a few visits."

"Who did you warn?" The annoyed security officer was turning red.

"I sent the notice to all the night-watchmen. No one received it?"

"We received no such bulletin, Sir," he replied stiffly.

Caleb shook his head. "I told IT that we needed a full work-up after that last lightning storm. E-mail has been failing, and now we have a weird electrical interference with our equipment? I'll get on IT's case first thing in the morning, I promise. As for tonight, you need to let Dr. Barrows and Mr. Heffernan go, because they're already cleared through me to be on the property."

Luke held his breath as he waited for something to happen, but no one moved for a couple of seconds. Slowly, the cop holding onto his shoulder reached to unlock his handcuffs.

"Wait, you're just letting them..." the angry guard trailed off, unbelieving.

"You have no evidence of breaking and entering, and one of the Directors of the Lab is vouching for them. Did they perform any kind of indiscretion in your presence?" the cop behind Luke asked.

"Well...no, they gave up to us immediately. But if they aren't guilty, then why-"

"We're turning them loose," the policeman replied.

Luke's heart soared for an instant as he was released, but a glimpse of the flash of confusion and disappointment in Caleb's eyes brought him back down to earth. _Crap, _he thought inwardly. _He completely covered for us, and he's going to want an explanation. What on earth are Greg and I going to tell him?_

"If you men would return to your posts, I'd appreciate it." Caleb sounded casual and friendly as he addressed the guards. "Officers, I apologize for the mix up. I assure you, I can handle my friends' disposal from here," he said jokingly.

Luke had it in mind to try and simply walk past Caleb out the door, but the man's relentless gaze was focused on him, willing him to stay put. Caleb motioned at the door to the monitoring station, and Luke and Greg turned around to go back inside. Caleb crossed ahead of them once they were in the room, focusing on the third guard who had taken a position behind the desk.

"I'm going to need to use the office for a little while, smooth a couple of things over. You understand," Caleb said firmly.

"Yes, Sir," the man replied meekly, and quickly vacated the room.

Caleb stood in front of the screens silently, watching the men and police officers as they dispersed. The man released an anxious breath when it appeared they had the wing to themselves, and fixed Luke with a glare. "If it weren't for your parents, Luke, I swear to God...They'd roll over in their graves if they knew you did something like this."

"Dr. Wells, we weren't defrauding you," Luke said swiftly. "I _know_ how this looks, but it isn't what you think. You don't believe I'd steal from you, or you would have allowed those cops to take us."

Caleb's gaze shifted between Luke and Greg. "I suppose I don't really, but that doesn't explain what you were doing. Do you have any idea how it felt getting that phone call, Luke? I thought I had to be dreaming! What the heck are you _doing_ here?"

"It's difficult to explain, Dr. Wells," Greg wheedled. "There are certain circumstances that are out of our control."

"And _you_, what on earth do you do for a living?" Caleb demanded of Greg. "Something tells me you're not just a pilot."

"I work for the FBI," he admitted.

"FBI? Is this Lab under investigation? Am I?"

Luke wanted to tell Dr. Wells that he was correct, to agree to anything that would get the man off their backs. Before he could speak, however, someone else called out from _above _them.

"Doc, tell him."

Luke winced and literally ground his teeth at the sound of Leonardo's voice.

"Who's up there? What's going on?" Caleb was rightfully alarmed.

"It's nothing; they're not doing anything, they're just-" Luke stumbled.

"Doc, _tell _him," Donatello insisted this time. "I don't think we can do this without his help. We can't. Not based on what we saw tonight."

"You can't do _what_ without my help? Who are you? What's going on?" Caleb's volume was increasing.

Luke felt utterly defeated, but inwardly he had to agree with Donatello. Without getting Caleb to at least advise them on research, the chance of having something in place in time to save Michelangelo was slim. "Caleb...brace yourself, okay?"


	63. Trust

Caleb Wells was sitting down. He felt like cursing the knees that had been weak ever since the unseen speakers revealed themselves to him. He wasn't afraid of the turtles; at least, he didn't_ think _he was. Right now he was experiencing a curious sensation that hovered between shock and fascination. He finally braced both hands on the arms of the desk chair, and slowly got to his feet.

"Are you all right, Caleb?" Luke was the first to ask.

"Yes, I'm fine. Is it okay if I approach them?"

The blond man appeared to be repressing a smile. "You can even talk to them _directly _if you want to."

Caleb turned to gaze at the strangers unabashedly, not bothering to hide his interest. "Forgive me, I'm not usually at a loss for words, but I'm feeling a little overwhelmed," he admitted. "Who are you? What do you have to do with Luke?" Caleb looked back at the younger man, inviting him to answer the questions too.

"We'll be happy to fill in all the blanks," the blue-masked turtle said evenly. "But we shouldn't linger _here_. We're seriously pushing our luck."

Caleb nodded. "That's true. We're taking an awful risk, the longer we stay here. How can you...will you be..."

"We'll get out the same way we came in," the purple-masked turtle volunteered. "We'll meet you back at the van, Doc."

"And all of you can meet _me_ back at my house," Caleb said firmly, fixing Luke with a serious look. "You _will _meet me back at the house, won't you?"

Luke nodded meekly. "On my honor, Caleb. We'll be over there right away."

Caleb still felt a little shaky as he crossed through the parking lot, and he had a hard time keeping his farewell to the security guards completely casual. He was about to climb into his car when he heard footsteps quickly approaching. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Luke coming toward him.

"What's going on?" Caleb was immediately tense, though he wasn't sure why.

"I thought I might ride with you," Luke replied. "Greg knows the way to your house from here."

Caleb gazed at the younger man silently for a few seconds, confusion and hurt still twisting through his gut. None of the circumstances surrounding the so called "break-in" at the Lab had been explained yet. He'd barely had the chance to get over the surprise of meeting Luke's unique companions before they'd decided to move.

"I thought I might get a chance to talk to you alone, and try to clear some of this up," Luke said carefully.

"That would be the_ least _you could do," Caleb answered stiffly.

He unlocked the doors from the driver's side, and motioned for Luke to get in. "We've only got about fifteen minutes, so I hope you can talk fast."

Luke looked at him tentatively. "Where do you want me to start? Would you rather hear the basics about why we came, or do you want information about my friends?"

"I think I can take my time getting acquainted with your...friends in a little while. Why don't you just tell me what this raid was all about?"

The younger man took a deep breath. "I'll do my best to explain, but I have to lay some groundwork for you. Surely you understand that the turtles' mutation isn't, um...naturally occurring. It was caused by a chemical reaction that permanently transformed their DNA, and gave them their humanoid abilities. Unfortunately, we've discovered that the mutation wasn't entirely beneficial."

"Very few of them _are_, you know."

"So I've heard. In any case, we discovered a specific genetic defect years ago, when their father became ill."

"They have a father?"

"His mutation was different from theirs, but they shared a similar genetic structure-"

"What about this defect?" Caleb interrupted. "Does it have something to do with your trip down here tonight?"

Luke nodded.

"Is this a matter of curiosity, or is it relating to their father being sick?"

"He already died," Luke said bleakly. "His lungs failed because of a condition relating to the defect. The lung stem cells began mutating spontaneously, and attacking the surface walls of the alveoli. There was so much tissue damage that the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide was cut off."

Caleb had to force himself to pay attention to the road, but his ears were sharply attuned to Luke. "Okay, so their father died. What does that have to do with tonight?"

"The genetic defect that caused his death wasn't unique to their father. All four of the turtles possess the unstable stem cell, which we now realize has the potential to develop into this condition inside every single one of them. One of the brothers is sick. It's been going on for months, and we couldn't determine the true source of it. We never compared his illness to his father's, because Mike's trouble started out differently than Splinter's did. In their father's case it was a consistent downhill trend, whereas Mike had an up and down battle where he would improve for days at a time, only to get sick again. We were distracted by a couple of different factors, and missed the signs that were right in front of us.

"We performed a lung biopsy on Mike a couple of days ago, and discovered the _same _type of damaged lung tissue that Splinter had. He's gotten worse over the last couple of weeks, and I don't think it's going to let up this time. Mike will die if we don't intervene somehow...and the rest of them will probably follow at some point," Luke said tightly.

Caleb drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "So, since you're dealing with a genetic defect, you thought you'd fight stem cells _with _stem cells."

Luke nodded. "We know that healthy stem cells can possibly reverse the tissue damage, as well as overcome the mutated cells-"

"But it would take a number in excess of _millions _of cells to achieve that kind of success, if it could be attained at all. I'm guessing you already know that."

The younger man took a shaky breath. "We know that the chances of saving him at this point aren't very good, but we've never given up without a fight before...Except in Splinter's case, when he_ told _us to."

Caleb took advantage of a red light by gazing over at Luke. "Is it very advanced? How long do you think he has if you do nothing?"

"We're not doing nothing; he's receiving breathing treatments, which will serve to prolong him."

"For how long?" Caleb asked bluntly.

"I can't say for certain."

Caleb gave him a stern look. "The move you made tonight felt like it was out of sheer desperation, Luke. Telling me how long you think he has left _won't _make him die any faster."

He didn't answer, and Caleb was on the verge of getting truly irritated, until he noticed the younger man tremble out of the corner of his eye.

"Luke?"

The man wouldn't look at him, instead gazing steadfastly out the window.

"Luke. Talk to me."

The young man shook his head before resting it against the window on the passenger door. "Four months," he said softly. "That's what we've calculated, based on the rate of destruction of his lung tissue. The condition took longer to become acute in Mike, but now that it's exhausted him...the cells are mutating at a _faster_ rate than they did with Splinter."

For a moment Luke sounded unemotional and professional, as he applied the correct physician's tone for delivering a prognosis. The way his body shuddered following the announcement revealed his _true_ feelings on the matter. Caleb pulled over to the shoulder of the road, so that he could focus on the man completely.

"Luke..." Caleb trailed off as the younger man disintegrated before his eyes. The sight of Luke's tears was sobering, and Caleb suddenly found himself thinking of the new strangers less like fascinating oddities, and more like rational living things.

"We need to go," Luke wavered as he collected himself. "They're going to be waiting on us."

"Luke, you are in no position to treat your friends impartially."

"It doesn't matter what I'm in the position to do. We don't have a choice, Caleb. Marcus, Donny, me...that's it. There isn't anyone else."

"What were you going to try to do on your own? Did you come here just to collect research, to learn what you needed to know? Did it even occur to you to come to_ me_?"

"I'm sorry, but you don't know what it means to live like this. I've had over a decade of knowing them, protecting them and_ being _protected by them. Involving other people isn't easy. They saved my life, Caleb. I was in a sad state after I lost my parents. I don't know where I'd be right now if I hadn't been introduced to them because of_ another _medical emergency."

"But you could tell Marcus about them?"

"Marc _broke_ into my apartment and stumbled onto one of them who was there, injured. I didn't introduce them, technically speaking. Marcus snuck in through the figurative back door."

"Do you wish that he hadn't?"

"I'm eternally grateful that Marcus has been there with us. His orthopedic expertise has been invaluable to the turtles, and he's a fantastic friend..." Luke looked at the road ahead of them. "We really should get going."

"Why didn't you want me to know?"

"It's the unknown factor, Caleb. I couldn't be sure of how you'd respond to them. Right now, more than ever, we're in no position to run away."

"Do you honestly believe I'd betray _you_?" Caleb asked quietly.

"I don't mean any offense by this, but I don't know you well, Caleb. That's just a fact. These guys are my life. I have a wife and a baby, but the turtles are as much my family as Kat and Reina are."

"Then to recap, you got into the Lab tonight, _somehow_, because you thought you could obtain the research you need to save your sick friend."

"That's it in a nutshell."

"It sounds a lot more complicated than coming to me would have been."

"I know that, Caleb." Luke looked him squarely in the eyes. "We made mistakes, and I can admit that. The truth is, even if we'd gotten away scot free, I doubt that we could have blundered our way through _your _research in time to find a solution for Mike."

"In other words, you're admitting you need my help."

"To put it mildly, and it's not easy to ask for it. At the same time, I would do anything to help Mike."

"Are you _asking_ for my help, Luke? Are you able to trust me with something like this?"

Luke swallowed deeply. "It isn't that I don't trust_ you_, Caleb. When you get mixed up with our group, everything becomes more complicated. But Donny was right. I don't think we're capable of doing this without some degree of help from you."

"Some degree? What on earth does that mean, Luke?"

"I'm trying not to make any assumptions here, Caleb. This could end up being a huge distraction if you allow it to."

Caleb gripped the steering wheel between his fingers in frustration. "Luke, you have to tell me what you're really thinking. Are you concerned about derailing my research, or are you incapable of trusting me with the weight of this secret?"

"I don't want to ask you to give up your life," Luke said quickly. "We just blew into town, and you don't know the turtles from Adam. You didn't ask for any of this."

Caleb sighed inwardly. _We're not going anywhere fast. It's obvious that he doesn't want me this close to his special friends_.

"Maybe we could start this a little slower?" Caleb suggested. "I don't know anything about them yet, except that they're masters of breaking and entering without _looking _like they're doing it."

Luke glanced down, and then made eye contact with him again. "Would you be willing to come with us to Lotus Salvus for a couple of days?"

Caleb pulled the car back onto the road. "I can escape from the Institute; that isn't a problem. Your friends aren't going to mind me invading?"

"They were the one who chose to reveal themselves to begin with."

Caleb looked at the clock on the dashboard, loudly proclaiming that it was after 3 in the morning. "Then...Let's get some sleep at my house, and we can leave for the mountains in a few hours. Unless you think your friends won't be safe in my neighborhood. You were in a hurry to get out the morning you arrived."

Luke shook his head. "I was only nervous about concealing the turtles from you. They're good at disappearing, Caleb. I think they can handle one night at your house."

Caleb nodded. "All right. We'll take this one step at a time...and figure out where to go from here."

"You don't have to feel obligated," Luke told him. "They're not your problem, and if you decide you don't want anything to do with this...All you have to say is that the research isn't complete, and it can't be done this quickly. You don't have to give them _or_ me any more reason than that."

Caleb's brow furrowed as he gave the younger man another quick glance. _He's trying so hard to give me a way out, even though I don't think he _wants_ me to take it. How does anyone live this way? The constant hiding, the stress...I can't imagine how it must affect him. I suppose it can drive someone to break into a Genetic Institute without a backup plan, _he thought sardonically. _I have a feeling I don't know what I'm walking into. I hope I'm not making a huge mistake._


	64. Heading Back

Donatello chuckled as the female border collie pressed her nose against his shoulder from the back of the van. The dog's sniffing had been incessant, even though it seemed the border collies had accepted his and Leonardo's scents fairly quickly. He'd been surprised that Molly and Noah got used to them in a short period of time, but no less pleased.

_I have to wonder if it's because animals seem to have some inane ability to sense the difference between a bad person and a good one._

Donny was secretly excited about the border collies making the trip up the mountain with them, even though Michelangelo hadn't been very keen on dogs ever since being chased down by an NYPD canine unit. _But these aren't German Shepherds, and they're certainly not vicious. _

He cast an admiring look down at Molly's snow white face and black ears, instantly understanding why people loved keeping the animals as pets. Don stretched a hand toward her, letting the dog sniff his fingers again before he reached to scratch her head. "You're a good girl, Molly, yes you are."

"You like dogs?" Caleb asked. "She certainly seems to like_ you_."

"I've never spent that much time around them." Donny shrugged. "She's a nice dog - they both are."

The older man nodded. "They're great companions for the most part. They behave like giant puppies sometimes, but I have to love their spirit. They used to irritate the living daylights out of me, but that was before Susan..." Caleb trailed off, resting one hand on each of the dogs' backs. "I've appreciated small things a lot more since I lost my wife. That's a hard lesson to learn."

Donny nodded politely, and then pointed at the notebook computer in Caleb's lap. "Are you getting anywhere with my journal? I know there's a ton of information to digest. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

"Yeah, I have a question," Caleb said seriously. "How is that any of you are still alive?"

Leonardo's laugh surprised Don. "We have good doctors, great friends...and a whole lot of luck," the blue-masked turtle replied.

Donny nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that pretty much covers it. We've cheated death many times, Dr. Wells. We owe Luke and Marcus our lives many times over."

Caleb looked down at the screen. "You've certainly had your share of adventures. I can't believe the places you guys have been. The Democratic Republic of Congo, Okinawa...you're better traveled than I am."

Leonardo threw a meaningful glance up front. "It helps to have a pilot on staff."

Greg chuckled as he looked at them in the rearview mirror. "It helps to have the Gulfstream too. Wouldn't you agree, co-pilot?" he directed at Donatello.

Caleb shot the purple-masked turtle a questioning look, and Donatello laughed.

"Greg is teaching me how to fly the thing," he told the man.

"_Teaching_ him isn't that accurate of a term anymore," Greg corrected. "In a few more months, he'll be flying the plane better than I can."

"So you're truly men of many talents," Caleb remarked. "This journal of yours is making for fascinating reading, Donatello. If you guys decided to put out a book, it would probably end up on the best-seller's list."

Leonardo chuckled. "Mikey just might do that...Of course he'd rather tell the story of his fictional femme fatale."

"He's a writer?" Caleb asked.

"He'd like to be...he has a lot of talent," Don answered.

The older man shook his head. "Is there anything you _don't_ do? Getting to know all the ins and outs of your lot could take me the better part of a year."

Donatello watched the man surreptitiously as he resumed pouring over the copy of his journal on the laptop. He felt a little uneasy about Caleb's eagerness, nervous that the man didn't see them as anything more than a glorified science experiment.

_Honestly, I don't really care if he wants to study us for the sake of curiosity. Whatever it takes to get his help with Mikey, I'm feeling game._

Donny knew that nothing had been decided for certain, that Caleb had only agreed to return to Lotus Salvus to meet the rest of the "family", and get some kind of grasp on the situation at hand. As he considered the man's true motivation again, nerves pitched around in his stomach like great waves._ Even if his interest is purely scientific and not in exposing us, I'd rather not have him "studying" Olivia...or any of my brothers for that matter. He shouldn't need to work with more than one of us to help in research with Mike, and I have to find a way to make sure he sticks with me._

The purple-masked turtle exhaled softly. _Still, Luke is the one who invited him along, and he's got more protective instincts than almost anyone we know. He's got good reason to trust Caleb, or he wouldn't have done that...and we were the ones who decided to introduce ourselves. I pray this was the right thing to do. I don't want to imagine him treating Mike like some side-show circus freak, or going public with our DNA. This kind of finding could be life changing for the genetic community..._

Donatello stared hard at the unassuming figure of the rusty-haired man, as he pushed up glasses that were sliding down his nose. Caleb looked at him as if he felt the turtle sizing him up, but Don didn't break his gaze. The blue eyes that held his were uncertain at first, but they also appeared open and guileless.

_Shell, I'm probably making him nervous, but at the same time, he makes _me _nervous._

"_You _were Marc's special case," Caleb blurted out suddenly.

"I was his what?" Donatello had no idea where he was going with that statement.

"The new technique for re-threading ligaments, instead of using a graft?"

"Ah, well...I'd already had a graft before," Donatello replied. "My knee was in a precarious position for quite a while. Marc is incredible at what he does, fortunately for me."

"It was fortunate for me too," Leonardo said mildly.

Donatello gave his brother a stern look, as if he was going to tell the whole story of the original injury right then and there, but then softened into a smile after a couple of seconds. "We've come a long way...and the docs have always been there for us. We wouldn't be here otherwise."

"That sounds like it's been a two way street," Caleb remarked without looking up. "At least from what Luke had already told me, and from the passages I've read on your exploits in the Congo. You're the only reason Marcus got out of the rainforest."

"It's really no good to try and measure who owes _who_ more," Greg offered from the front seat. "It's impossible to determine the worth of life anyway, let alone one of theirs. You'll have to forgive us if everyone isn't completely receptive of you at first, Caleb. This is a tricky process."

_That_ got Caleb's attention. "If I was going to tell someone about this, I would have made the call last night, when you were in my home. Doesn't the fact that I'm doing this on your terms mean_ anything_?"

Luke nodded swiftly. "Yes, Caleb, and so does the fact that you stood up for us last night, before you even knew what we were up to. I'll never be able to thank you enough for trusting me."

"You could start by trying to trust _me_," Caleb shot back.

* * *

><p>Michelangelo felt a strange awkwardness descend over him the moment Rebecca told him that the van had pulled up. He took a sharp intake of air and let it out slowly. He'd been angry to hear about the sacrificial move that Greg and Luke had made, and he didn't know what to think about them bringing Caleb back here.<p>

_I should be happy to meet him. He saved Luke and Heff's tails, and he _might_ be able to save mine. It's still hard to relax knowing a stranger is coming here, and going to see Olivia_...The brothers' collective protectiveness of the baby turtle had the potential to overshadow even their concern for one another.

Mike stayed where he was on the couch until there was a knock at the door, then he rose slowly to his feet. He glanced over at his red-masked brother propped up on the other couch, and was certain he saw a shudder of apprehension ripple across Raphael like a stone that disturbed the surface of a pond. Raphael's arm gripped the back of the couch stronger, and Mike caught him looking at Olivia.

Mike scooped up the crawling baby turtle and handed her to his brother, as Leonardo led the way into the house. Raphael nodded his thanks, and clutched Olivia tightly to his chest. The orange-masked turtle held his breath as the others came inside, with Luke guiding the newcomer.

"Sorry to keep all of you waiting," Luke announced. "We meant to come back last night, but we got a little...sidetracked. Everyone, this is Dr. Caleb Wells. He's responsible for getting us out of the mess we created for ourselves last night."

"Thank you, Caleb." Katherine was the first to speak up. "We appreciate your help more than we can express."

"Ma'am, it's good to see you again." Caleb smiled at the woman as if they were old friends, and then scanned the room curiously. "I see there are several more introductions to be made."

"The young women you have yet to meet are all connected to our guys here," Luke offered.

Mike noticed that the stranger's eyes had fixed on Olivia.

"You have a baby..." Caleb sounded amazed. "I didn't realize you could...I mean..."

"She's _ours_," Karina said pointedly. "Raph's and mine."

"How _extraordinary_; your genetic makeup was compatible enough to create a child? I would never have guessed that something like that would be possible. Is her DNA a match to your original archetype, or is she closer to a mixture between the two of you? It's evident that she appears to favor your more unique chemistry. A find this remarkable changes so much of what we _think_ we know…"

Mike was alarmed by the rate of Caleb's speech, and the way the man instantly moved toward the couch. It was clear he wasn't the only one. Leonardo and Donatello rapidly inserted themselves between the doctor and Raphael was holding Olivia.

"We need to back up a little," Leonardo said smoothly.

"Oh, um...of course. I apologize." Caleb froze. "I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries."

Mike glanced at Raphael, and saw the daggers his older brother was shooting at Caleb from his helpless position. The red-masked turtle's muscled arms engulfed the little one so that Olivia was nearly invisible on his lap. Michelangelo swallowed as the tension in the room seemed to increase tenfold.

"Maybe I should...Luke, maybe you could help me get the dogs settled in." Caleb glanced nervously at the blond doctor. "I could finish meeting everyone in a few minutes."

"Sure," Luke replied, his own restraint apparent. "It's not going to be much of an adjustment for them, huh? The dogs grew up here."

Mike's eye ridges rose as the men disappeared out the door. "Dogs? He's not talking about the ferocious beasts that tried to attack us the other night, is he?"

"They were _barking_," Don corrected. "They're not ferocious, Mike. They're just border collies, and they're very friendly. They only needed a chance to get used to us."

"Don, I'm surprised at you. You've made friends with the enemy?" Mike pretended to accuse him.

"Anybody seen Tiger?" Raphael asked. "I've never seen her around a dog."

Mike noticed that Raphael's gaze remained _fixed_ on the door from which Luke and Caleb had exited.

"She's pretty even keeled," Leonardo said thoughtfully. "They'd probably just need to get used to each other too."

"Are they going to have time for that? I mean, is this guy sticking around?" Mike asked.

"We don't know yet," Leo replied softly. "This is a 'getting to know you' tour, before he makes any decisions."

Karina shifted uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. "I don't know about him," she said uncertainly. "Maybe he's just curious, but I don't like how interested he was in Olivia."

"I believe he means well," Calley said calmly. The blond woman squared her shoulders as the rest of the room turned their attention on her. "I don't get any malice from him...just nerves and excitement. Can anyone blame him for being curious? Genes are what he studies for a living. All of you must be the most incredible people he's ever met."

"_Specimen_, you mean," Raphael muttered darkly. "How do we know he didn't want to come here just for a chance to study the freaks? I don't want him touching Liv. I know he's friends with Luke and all, but I ain't ready to go that far."

"It doesn't appear that any of us are," Don said morosely. "We may have reacted too strongly, Leo. We have to try and make this work, for Mikey if nothing else."

The orange-masked turtle cleared his throat. "Um...I'm still here, Don."

"I'm sorry, Mike, I'm not trying to talk over you."

"I know you're not, Bro. Just a reminder. I'll do my part, whatever it takes to make friends with Caleb."

"We_ all _need to do our part." Leonardo suddenly sounded tired. "This is awkward enough, and he has to be overwhelmed...so maybe we could try to be a little more welcoming to him."

Raphael snorted. "Whatever, Fearless. Just help me keep him off _Liv's_ shell."

Mike stiffened as he heard the dogs barking outside, but fought to remind himself that they weren't killer monsters. He shuffled toward the window to get a look at them, and saw the border collies sprinting around excitedly in the grass. _They look like they've been in prison for years, and now they've been set free. I guess we've got some things in common, _he mused_._

Mike felt a hand on his shoulder, and glanced over to see his purple-masked brother.

"You wanna come outside with me?" Don invited. "I'll show you that they're not so bad."

Mike nodded. "We all have to give a little, right? Just don't let them eat me."

"Turtles don't taste good, Mike." Donatello laughed.

"How would you know?" he asked impishly.

"It's the shell. I can't see it being all that appetizing."

"But their mighty incisors could probably crush them to bits."

"_Mikey_."

"Oh, all right. Let's get this over with, Donny."


	65. Agreement

Michelangelo didn't see Luke or Caleb when he went outside with Donatello. The orange-masked turtle's natural inclination was to hang out on the porch where he hoped the border collies wouldn't notice him during their romp, but Donny was already ruining that plan. His brother descended the steps and called out to the animals, leaving Mike hesitating close to the front door. The rustle of feet treading upon leaves suddenly caught his attention around the side of the house, and Mike silently crossed the porch to investigate.

"I was willing to consider what might be done, Luke, but they don't want me here."

_That must be that Caleb dude_, Mike realized, edging closer to the corner of the wrap-around porch.

"They're just nervous, Caleb, the same as you are," Luke tried to explain. "Will you try to see this from their perspective? Their entire lives consist of hiding from bad guys who'd like to kill them, and the scientists who'd want to dissect them."

"That's the unfair thing about making generalizations, Luke. I am_ not _one of those people. I'm sure there are doctors in my field who'd go berserk at the chance to study them, to figure out how their cells were transformed. Does that make me guilty by association? Is that how this works?"

Luke sighed anxiously. "I can see how it might feel that way, but it's really not how it is. I'd like to try introductions again."

"That red one-"

"Raphael."

"He doesn't like me. I don't see the point of my being here when it's only going to stress them out further. Don't you think everyone would be happier if I left?"

"Raph's a grumpy-shell, you have to give him a chance," Mike cut in suddenly, and hopped the railing on the porch. "Sorry for listening, guys, but I think I can speak pretty well for my bros. Nobody wants to accuse you of being a bad guy, Dr. Wells. We know Luke better than that. If he's friends with you, we can pretty much figure that you're okay too.

"But we still have defensive instincts to deal with, y'know? Especially when it comes to Olivia. We've never _had _a kid of our own before. This is new territory for all of us, and Leo and Don didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Leo is 'Mr. Cool-head', and Donny wouldn't hurt somebody like that. They're just fighting with their urge to protect Liv from anyone, and anything. It isn't personal."

The older man peered at him openly. "You would be Michelangelo, right?"

The orange-masked turtle nodded. "Mike is fine."

"I'd like a chance to talk to you, if I may," Caleb continued.

Mike automatically looked around. "Sure, dude. Uh...maybe we could walk a little."

"Mike..." Luke sounded like he was going to protest.

"Doc, I'm not an invalid _yet_. If we don't go far and we take our time, I'll be fine. We just need some space for a while. Is that okay?"

Before Luke responded, Donatello's voice carried around the side of the house.

"Mike? Where ar-Oh. Luke...Caleb, I'm sorry. Leo and I overreacted; we didn't mean to offend you."

Caleb held up a hand for him to stop. "You don't have to explain. I understand that I make you extremely nervous, particularly as far as your young one is concerned. I'm going to take some time to talk with your brother right now, and then we'll let everyone know where we're at."

Luke's eyes lingered on Mike the entire time Caleb was talking. "Don't go far, all right, Mike?" He turned his head to include Caleb. "You know your way around of course," he told the man.

"I won't let him push it too hard, Luke." There was a faint note of amusement in Caleb's tone this time. "I can moonlight as an overprotective physician for a few minutes."

"Where are you going?" Don wanted to know.

"For a walk. We'll be back," Mike insisted.

His purple-masked brother's brow furrowed, but he didn't object. "Okay," he said softly, taking a step backward toward the house.

Michelangelo headed around front again before Luke or Donatello would have a chance to change their minds, but stopped in his tracks when the dogs ran right directly into his path. Caleb must have noticed his flash of nerves, because the man hurried in front of him.

"It's okay," he told Mike. "They're overzealous, but the dogs are friendly, I promise." Caleb got one hand on each of the border collie's collars, and lightly tugged them into a sitting position on the ground.

The dogs whined with excess excitement, their tails thumping the ground in near unison as they panted heavily. Donatello dropped to one knee beside Caleb, reaching to pet one of the animals. Mike grinned when the dog twisted the collar out of the man's hand, and offered a paw to his brother.

Caleb shook his head at Don. "I_ told _you Molly likes you."

"She must have a thing for brainiacs." Mike chuckled. "I guess the dogs can't be _all_ bad."

The older man offered him a smile. "You're always going to find a few dangerous ones in the mix, but that doesn't make all dogs evil. The same is true of humans," he said with a pointed look in Donatello's direction.

His brother nodded meekly, but didn't say anything.

"Don, let's get them in the house," Luke suggested, motioning to the dogs. He reached for Noah's collar, and allowed Donatello to nudge Molly toward the porch.

Caleb gave Mike an expectant look.

"You're gonna have to lead the way, dude," Mike informed him. "I don't know where I'm going. This is my first prison break since I got here."

"Fair enough. Why don't we go straight from here, just stay in the flat land? The field extends a pretty good ways, and we wouldn't be doing much work."

Mike eyed the woods longingly, but he knew Caleb's way was the one to go. The turtle didn't make a sound as he trudged through the grass, and Caleb's feet only made the smallest of whispers through the green blades.

"This is the best time of year to be here, in my opinion," Caleb said after a couple minutes of silence. "When all the leaves change, it's one of the most beautiful things you'll ever see."

"Did you like living here?" Mike asked.

"I did enjoy it, Mike, but I took a lot of the beauty for granted. Susan, my wife, she was always trying to get me outside more often, especially in the Fall. I didn't listen to her enough."

Mike nodded grimly. "I'm sorry you lost her." The turtle thought carefully before he continued. "I haven't even known Becky as long as you and your wife were married, but it still kills me to imagine what losing her would feel like."

"Becky?"

"Rebecca. She's my wife, sorry."

"Wait...that's _right, _the girl from the Congo?"

"Well, I met her in the rainforest, but she didn't _come_ from there. Her parents were missionaries, so she grew up in Africa, but she was born in the US."

A smile was creeping onto Caleb's face. "I made my way through a good chunk of your brother's journal today. It makes me feel like I already know you a little bit...or that we've been introduced at least. Incredible stuff in there."

Mike grinned. "That's a day in the life of a vigilante ninja turtle. It's always fun, adventure, and excitement, except for the other three-quarters of the time when we're doing nothing but staying out of sight."

"It sounds stressful."

"It can be. Living in the dark can be downright depressing. You wouldn't understand it, not unless you went for weeks without seeing the sunlight. We could have gone crazy a bunch of times...but we found ways to keep each other sane."

"Like how?"

"Oh, the usual guy stuff. Training, video games, messing with each other. I added cooking and writing to the mix later on."

"Donatello says you have a lot of talent."

"Says the genius," Mike scoffed.

"That would mean he knows something is good when he sees it, doesn't he?"

The turtle relented with a smile. "I guess."

"I got the impression from your brothers that you've been a very positive influence over the years."

Mike shrugged. "I've done my best to be thankful. Sometimes I was faking it, but I can find _something _good about most rotten circumstances. I'm sort of the official goofball of the group; always trying to make someone relax or get a rise out of them."

"In other words, a typical younger brother?"

"As typical as four giant talking turtles living under the streets of New York can be." Mike snickered. "It's nice to have the variety of three brothers to choose from, because no one reacts to me the same. Leo's the strong, even-keeled leader type, who's always having to drag me back down to Earth. Raph's the macho tough guy, who likes to act grumpier than he really is, and Donny... in spite of all of his brains, he's the one I identify with the most. We've clicked from the time we were kids, even though I could be awful irritating. I can still be annoying when the mood strikes me," he added impishly.

"You're obviously an extremely close family. What about the women? Are all of you married?"

Mike nodded. "Maybe not in the legal sense of _your_ world, but in our minds, we're committed for life. I love Becky just as much as Luke loves Kat, and Marcus loves April. The differences between us don't mean we can't experience the same kind of connection."

"Of course," the man said quickly. "Talking to you, I'd think anyone could see that you're a rational living thing. That being said, you're absolutely capable of forming relationships, and falling in love."

Mike smiled as he pictured the curly-haired woman in his mind. "I was the last one to meet somebody. There was a while there when I didn't think it would happen for me. I'm really glad it did, even if..." He didn't finish the statement, looking down at the ground rather than at Caleb. "I just wish Becky didn't have to get hurt. She's been through enough in the last few years with losing her own family."

Caleb was quiet for a couple of seconds. "How far are you willing to go, Mike?"

The turtle looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I've experienced a moderate amount of success in _some_ of the trials I've completed with my new equipment in conjunction with the existing research, but it isn't technically ready to go forward. If we choose to continue regardless, it's going to be risky. It will mean doing procedures on you that haven't been thoroughly tested, and sometimes taking a shot in the dark. That's not something I can offer anyone from an ethical standpoint, but this isn't a normal situation."

"And you're not operating under the law," Mike filled in. "Caleb, I don't care what it takes. I'm game for_ anything_. I don't care if it involves cutting, needles, whatever. I want to live. But more importantly, I need you to promise me something else. If there comes some point when you_ know _I'm gonna die, you can't stop working with me. You've got to learn as much about this condition from me as possible, to give my brothers a fighting chance. If I have to go, I want to do_ something _worthwhile at the same time."

Caleb exhaled deeply. "This is a dangerous road to take, and I can't guarantee anything. But if you're brave enough to go through with it, then_ I'm _game to try."

Mike fixed him with a steady gaze. "This is a lot to ask of someone. You don't have to decide this fast."

"I've already heard this speech from Luke," he replied. "If I wasn't considering making a commitment, I never would have come and wasted everyone's time. Do you think your family is going to be able to trust me?"

"They'll come around, even Raph. He's not as mean as you'd think he is...at least, not to regular people. Cross him as a bad guy, and he's more dangerous than you can imagine."

Mike paused in his stride, staring at the rising purple mountain peak in the distance. He wanted to keep going to see the mountain closer up, but he was already battling with taking a deep breath. "I think...we'd better head back."

Caleb nodded. "If you want my help, Mike, I'll do the best I can. I can't make you any promises for how it will all turn out, but I'll put forth all of my effort and research."

"I'll try to be a good patient and do whatever you say. I really _do _wanna make it, Caleb. I've got a lot to live for."

"You have a great family."

"That's still growing," Mike admitted. "We found out Becky's pregnant. I'm supposed to be a dad."

Caleb stopped to look at him. "Congratulations. I'll do everything I can to make sure you get the chance."

"As much as I don't want to press my luck, I have to ask, Caleb. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I know Luke, and I know that he's a good man. He wouldn't have devoted his life to you if it wasn't a worthy cause. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't fascinated by the prospect of learning more about you...in the strictly _non_-dissection sense. There's also the fact that you don't have any other alternatives. That's hard to turn a blind eye to."

"You're sure about this?"

"If you're sure about going where no man has gone before, then I'm prepared to take the risk with you."

"Where no _turtle_ has been, you mean."

"However you want to put it is fine with me. Do you think you can get the rest of your people on board?"

Mike smiled. "Oh sure, Caleb. I've got a special way with people. They'll get on track if I have anything to say about it."


	66. Surviving

Raphael took a sharp breath as Leonardo and Greg helped him into his bed. He didn't _want_ to sleep, but he'd felt like he was nodding off in the Great Room, and it was embarrassing.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" Leo asked for the third time.

The red-masked turtle shook his head. "I'll be fine, Bro; I'm just wiped out. Can't figure out _why_ - it isn't like I've been running laps."

"I think being injured this way does that to you," Leonardo suggested. "Got your phone in reach?"

"Always."

"Call us if you end up needing something," Greg told him.

"Okay, you guys. I'll be fine," he insisted. "It's a couple of bum legs, it's not like I'm..." Raphael had been about to say "_dying_", but it didn't feel appropriate.

Leonardo sighed softly, and Greg shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"I think I should go do that thing now," Greg announced, and backed out of the room.

Raphael snorted. "He's real subtle, huh, Fearless?"

Leonardo gave him a thin smile as he leaned against the side of the mattress. "Almost as subtle as _you_," he quipped.

"What's up, Leo? You got something you need to say?"

The blue-masked turtle hesitated. "I wanted to make sure you're okay with everything, Raph. I know this is a difficult situation...but I honestly believe Caleb coming is the best thing that could have happened."

"I'm not gonna argue with that, Leo," he replied. "I'm happy the guy's here, for Mike's sake. He's kinda the only shot Mike has, isn't he?"

Leonardo sighed softly. "So it would seem."

"I can't pretend I'm completely comfortable with him, Leo, but what choice do we have? Then again, if Caleb just wanted 'specimen' to study, he could have called the authorities when you were at his place overnight. We outnumber him here, we're in the middle of nowhere, and no one's gonna leave him alone, right?"

"No," Leo said quickly. "We're going to keep an eye on his comings and goings."

"That, and he's got no reason to be near Liv. Back me up on this, Fearless."

"I will, Raph, I promise."

The red-masked turtle broke eye contact with Leonardo and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm kind of getting the feeling from Mike that he's more worried about finding a solution for the rest of us than he is about surviving period." Raphael shook his head in frustration. "Why does it have to be this way, Leo? We're walking along, just starting to think it's safe to relax and be happy, and _wham_. It's like running into a brick wall head-on."

His brother exhaled shakily. "It stinks, Raph. I don't understand it any more than you do. But if there's any team on the planet that can figure this out in time, I think it's the one we've got here."

Raphael nodded. "Speaking of which, you'd better get out there and see to it that everyone's making nice with Caleb."

Leonardo gave him a strange look. "It sounds like the 'happy juice' is kicking in, Bro."

"Is that the official term for it?"

"That's what Mike has been campaigning for."

"Sounds good to me," Raphael murmured as he relaxed his head on his pillow. "Don't let me sleep too long, Leo. I'm starting to feel like an old man as it is."

"You're_ injured_, Raph. There's a big difference."

All traces of Raphael's weariness fled briefly as the phone vibrated on the table next to the bed. He reached to retrieve it, and saw Brandon's name pop up on the screen. "It's Bran, Leo. I'm gonna take this."

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "Make sure you get some sleep too, Raph. I'll see you later."

Raphael hit the button to answer the phone as Leo turned to leave the room. "Hey, man," he greeted Brandon. "When are you getting your tail down here already?"

"As soon as the stupid hospital releases me to fly. This wouldn't be a problem if you guys weren't hogging the pilot."

"First come, first serve," Raphael said smugly. "Seriously though, are you doing okay? Why won't they let you fly?"

"Some crap with my blood pressure being so out of whack. They've had me on a new medication for a couple of days, but they want to give it a few days of observation before I'm cleared to go. April was there when the doc said it, and she's insisting on playing by their rules."

"That's probably the best thing for you, isn't it?"

"Can't I just complain to you without having to hear the same lecture I get from everyone else?" Bran asked sardonically.

Raphael had to grin. "How long will it be before you can work again?"

"Well...training the field Agents is kind of on hold right now as it is, with Javits being destroyed and all. There's other work around that I _could_ do, but Kelley is encouraging me to go on short-term disability because of my collarbone. I don't know how long it will last, but I'm pretty anxious to get out of this city."

"How _are _things with New York?"

"You'd think we were at war or something, with all the military presence and the destruction in certain areas. I haven't heard about any significant rise in criminal activity, so it sounds like curfews, the cops, and the soldiers are making an impact."

"Good to know. Wouldn't want people to_ miss _us."

"_I_ miss you guys, if that means anything to you."

"We miss you too," Raph said glumly. "I miss a lot of things, like having some shred of freedom."

"Are you in much pain?"

"From time to time. I can deal with it mostly, and the pain meds are there when it gets too intense."

Brandon was silent for a long moment.

"Bran?"

"Sorry, Raph. I feel awful about all of this. I can't help thinking that it's my fault."

"Your fault that we had an earthquake and aftershocks? Bran, you don't have that much power." Raphael snorted.

"You know what I mean. I'm really sorry, Raph. As soon as they let me off the leash, I'll be down there to help however I can."

"Well I _don't_ need any more babysitters, but the company would be nice. I think you would do Mikey some good too."

"How is Mike?"

"I'm not sure. He's still himself, I guess, just more subdued. I think he's actually handling this better than the rest of us are. Did you hear about the mess from the Institute last night?"

"I got the short version. Luke said that his friend was coming to stay with you for a while. Does the guy check out?"

"As far as we can tell. He and Mike had some 'meaning of life and everything' chat, and apparently Caleb's gonna try and save him."

"That's good news, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but nothing is certain. The research hasn't even caught up to actual trials with humans yet, so it means experimenting with Mikey...and that makes me nervous. I don't wanna see him suffer."

"No one does, Raph. But this is the best chance he has, right?"

The red-masked turtle nodded like Brandon could see him. "It's a shell of a lot better than watching Don and the docs struggle without any hope of saving him to begin with. I don't know, Bran. I'm trying to believe that everything will work out, but it's hard to do."

"I'm sorry, Raph. I wish I knew what to tell you, but it all feels like it would be empty words. I'll be there as soon as I can. Victoria is looking into flights for next week."

"Sorry we stole the pilot. And the plane."

"Nah, it sounds like Greg is where he needs to be, helping everyone else get into trouble. I'm eager to see_ him _too."

"I'm sure you are. I'm really tired, Brandon, so I think I'm gonna have to let you go. Call me later?"

"Sure, Raph; I'll check in tonight. Get some sleep."

* * *

><p>When the red-masked turtle came around, he was half-afraid that he'd slept the entire day away. He was relieved to see light still coming in the windows, though it appeared to be fading. Raphael reached for his phone to try his brothers, but didn't get either of them on the first try.<p>

_Okay, guys...you said you wouldn't forget me, _he thought with irritation, and dialed Greg's speed-digit instead.

"Hey, Heff," he said when the man answered. "Could you give a decrepit turtle a hand? My bros aren't picking up the phone."

"Oh...they're working out, Raph. Hang on, I'll grab Marc, and I'll be right there."

The two men came to help him, and Raphael was surprised when they brought him to a silent Great Room.

"Where is everybody?" he asked.

"Becky's getting her first real pictures of the baby taken," Marcus replied with a grin.

"And you wanna be there too, don't you, Marc? Don't let me hold you up."

The doctor didn't need further prodding to get back upstairs. "I'll make copies, Raph; you'll get to see the baby too."

"Okay, thanks, Marc. You go ahead, and I'll be cool right here." The turtle glanced at Greg, and noticed the man hovering in the middle of the room. "Were you in the middle of something too, Heff?"

"Dinner," Greg said apologetically. "I've got the chicken in the oven already, but there are still sides left to pull together."

"Why don't you go do that? I'm about starving."

"I could make you something else first. I don't want you to wait if you're hungry."

"I think I'll survive, and I can call you if I need something," Raphael added before Greg could tell him to.

As Greg cast a look over his shoulder at the kitchen, Caleb came hurrying out.

"The pot was about to boil over, so I took it off the burner," the older man said.

"Good catch; thanks, Caleb. I've got it from here. Why don't you and Raph...hang out," Greg ventured.

The bespectacled man cast Raphael an apprehensive look, and the turtle was careful to remain impassive.

"Okay. We'll be here," Caleb agreed.

Raphael tracked the newcomer curiously as Caleb headed for one of the chairs. He appeared to get sidetracked en route, and ended up staring outside instead.

"Oh, wow," Caleb said under his breath.

"What?" Raphael asked. "I can't see it, so you're gonna have to be more specific."

"Your brothers."

The red-masked turtle smirked. "What are they doing? Working out separately, or laying into each other?"

Caleb cocked his head. "They fight with each other?"

Raphael chuckled unintentionally. "Not for real. It's sparring, to practice certain skills. We have to stay sharp somehow. Well, _they're _getting to anyway. Me and Mike gotta sit out for who knows how long."

Caleb gave him a closer look. "That must be difficult when you're used to being so physical."

"It sucks, but there's nothing we can do but wait." Raphael felt the weight of the months of therapy that were ahead dragging him down again. He averted amber eyes to focus on the wall, as the fear of losing the use of his left leg returned to mind.

"You did a good thing," Caleb said quietly, drawing his attention. "Marc told me you saved someone's life in the process of being hurt."

Raphael shrugged. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I only reacted. What's _your_ deal, if you don't mind me asking? What made you so willing to come up here and put the rest of your life on hold?"

"I answered that question a couple of times. You don't have to be worried about my motivation, Raphael. I'm here because of Luke, and because you guys_ need _a break. I hope that you can learn to trust me."

Raphael maintained his gaze. "Trust is a big thing with you, isn't it?"

Caleb smiled tolerantly. "I try to be as up front as I can be, in every situation that I'm in. So when my integrity gets questioned, yes, I get offended sometimes. Maybe that's asking too much as far as this group is concerned."

Raphael winced. "It shouldn't be asking too much for someone to give you the benefit of the doubt, but that's not a luxury we can offer people on a whim. The wrong person finds out about us, and it's all over. We don't like expecting the worst out of people, but it's not easy to tell the difference when you're just _looking_ at them."

"I understand," Caleb answered. "I want you to know that I'm not going to hurt any of you, at least, not on purpose. I can't say what will happen with Mike."

"Is he gonna be in pain?" Raph asked tightly.

Caleb shook his head. "I hope not. You_ do _believe that I'm not going to hurt him on purpose, don't you?"

"Well, sure, you don't strike me as being an idiot with a death wish," Raphael said half-seriously.

The man gave him a cautious smile. "It's not safe to get on your bad side, is it?"

Raphael shook his head. "You don't wanna know how dangerous we can be."

Caleb looked out the window and took a sharp breath. "I can get a vague picture, I think. The four of you combined must be virtually unstoppable."

"Those were the days." Raphael sighed longingly. "Not like now."

Caleb looked sympathetic. "You guys have had it rough over the last couple of weeks. It must have been hard to leave your home."

"We keep saying it could have been worse, but then it seems to be_ getting _worse," he said dejectedly. "Shell, I'd do anything to take Mike's place if I could. It shouldn't be him."

"Would it be better if it was someone else?"

"Only in _my_ mind."

"It's possible you _may_ be able to help him, if you really want to know."

Raphael's head jerked upright. "Help him how? You know we're not really related, don't you? He and I don't even have the same blood type."

Caleb folded his arms across his chest. "According to the latest research, the differences in your DNA might not even matter. But that gets a little complicated, so I think I'll get into specifics later."


	67. Hurdles

***I am a total nerd, in case you couldn't already tell. (The type of nerd who screamed like a school girl when I discovered the video-log Peter Jackson posted from the first week of production on the Hobbit.) I've been interested in DNA ever since I learned about the Human Genome Project as a freshman in high school. That being said, it was important to me for things to be authentic, and as "non-fiction" as possible relating to the facts about stem cells. Most of what you're about to read is completely true. The only part where I took artistic liberty was Caleb's role, in that he'd already discovered a cost effective method for creating iPs cells, with less time required. And iPs cells? We'll get to that.**

* * *

><p>"Caleb, it really isn't necessary to get into all of this tonight. You just got here," Luke told him. "We could take our time, for one day."<p>

"I'm just talking here, Luke," the older man countered. "I want to give you an idea of where I am specifically with my research, as well as the materials we're going to have to acquire...somehow."

As far as _Donatello _was concerned, he was ready to get to work, but he understood that everything couldn't happen instantly. He sat silently in a desk chair, fixed on Caleb as the man set to the task of simplifying and summing up his research from the last year. Nerves continued to pulse in the back of his mind, but he fought to silence them and listen to what Caleb was saying.

"There are two major hurdles we need to overcome in order to implant healthy stem cells that have the potential to create new tissue, and take back control of his lungs from the renegade cells that are mutating. The first problem to address is the actual reproduction of cells that are capable of dividing into a different type, as well as transforming into tissue. In times past it was thought that only early stage embryonic stem cells had the ability to change into _any_ type of cell.

"However, new research has shown the merits of induced pluripotent cells for being_ tailored _to fit a patient's immune system. They're derived from the skin and normal adult stem cells which are more readily available, and don't involve the controversy of using the embryonic variety, which forces the destruction of a human embryo."

"But how do you tailor an _adult _stem cell?" Donny asked. "I remember seeing induced pluripotent cells come up in my reading, but I never came across the process of their creation."

"The 'iPs cells', as they're often referred to, are a miracle of modern science. Scientists have learned how to essentially 'reprogram' the adult cells, to give them many of the same properties of embryonic cells. It opens the door wider for the possibility of using the adult cells for things they couldn't do in the past.

"The real deterrent in the beginning was that iPs cells were extremely costly and time consuming to produce. With the use of custom equipment that exists nowhere else in the world right now, I've been experimenting with a different method for reprogramming the cells that has exhibited a lot of promise. They aren't a perfect match to the version that takes longer to culture yet, but I've gotten close. If we're going to do this, we need to appropriate the equipment."

Caleb paused for a long moment. "It's possible that I could meet with my investors, and come up with an excuse to move my research back to the mountain. It all _started_ here, and this particular project is my individual undertaking. If we don't have to risk the danger or the legal ramifications of stealing it, I would appreciate it."

"Can you pull this off?" Luke asked softly.

"I think so. I could cite adding new members to the team. Given the Lab's obvious 'vulnerabilities' over the last year, it might even make more sense to them for me to move the equipment to a secure location."

Donatello chuckled under his breath and swore he saw Caleb repressing a smile.

"It may take charming the pants off four of the staunchest men in the United States, but I believe it can be done," Caleb said. "Producing the cells is half the battle; getting Mike's immune system to accept them is the other half."

Luke's forehead creased. "I'm familiar with immuno-suppressing drugs, and how some people end up having to stay on them for the rest of their lives. I understand that they're a necessary evil, but it also opens a whole other can of worms. I guess there's no way around needing to suppress his immune system, but I'm afraid of the sickness and infection he's going to be exposed to."

Caleb smile came out of hiding. "Immuno-suppressants aren't the only player in the ball game anymore. Last year a medical student named Jeremy Pearl took a different approach in his own experiments involving the viability of transplanted stem cells in a patient. He used something called a co-stimulatory receptor blocking agent. In essence, the therapy trains the immune system to simply _ignore_ the implanted cells.

"To test the method, scientists injected embryonic stem cells from one type of mouse, into one with a completely different genetic background. They found that when they used spaced out doses of the blocking agent, the stem cells actually flourished. In the past, if a host received cells that didn't match his own, they couldn't survive in his system for more than 28 days on immuno-suppressants, or 21 days without any kind of assistance."

"What do the blocking agents do exactly?" Marcus asked.

"The drug is designed to target T-cells, which are the key component to the immune system. Its job is to 'teach' the body's defenses to accept the donor cells. What that research teaches us is that it_ is _possible to implant a non-genetically matched stem cell seamlessly into another host."

"Wow," Donatello said quietly. "This kind of thing has already been accomplished?"

"In animals," Caleb clarified. "Research of that nature hasn't caught up to humans yet. It's a tall order to make the jump this quickly, and a dangerous one. I told you that my version of the iPs cells hasn't been perfected."

"Maybe not," Luke said. "But your method has more promise of saving Mike than anything else does. I want to make it clear that compensation isn't an issue-"

"Compensation? You're talking about paying me? Luke, that isn't why I'm here."

"I know it isn't, but you're putting your job and research on hold."

"Not completely. I have to continue to carry on some side experiments so that I have material to present to investors. I can drag out the timeline with the iPs cells; no one expected me to have made this much ground with them already. I think I can make a convincing case out of carrying on normal research, while I'm focusing the majority of my attention on Mike."

"Does that mean the investors are _paying_ you to do the grunt work for my brother?" Don asked.

"No," he answered. "I'll cease to withdraw private funds from them until I return to Asheville. I can call it a part time sabbatical, and electing not to take money during this period could make it more attractive to them."

"They won't find that strange?" Marcus spoke up.

"I just lost my wife a few months ago," Caleb reminded him. "I never took time off; it was easier to get buried in my work. But it's also another good excuse to get away now, if the investors end up needing it."

The purple-masked turtle shook his head, feeling a little dizzy all the sudden. "We never could have done this without you."

"You can say that again," Luke agreed. "I don't know how I'm going to repay you for this, Caleb. It's going to take some serious thought."

"Who repays _you_, Luke?" Caleb wondered. "Who repays your friends for saving lives and constantly risking their own? I don't want anything from you except your friendship and your trust."

"You'll have that forever," Luke said firmly.

"One of those amazing scanners you designed wouldn't hurt either," Caleb added impishly, looking at Donatello.

The turtle smiled with a strong sense of pride. "Luke submitted the patent for me on the machine. It will take a while to work through the legalities, but the goal is to get it on the market. I'd be happy to make you one in the meantime."

The older man shook his head. "What _your_ scanner would do for EMS and hospitals alone could be revolutionary. Not to mention the ability to use it on the battlefield, out in the remote wild...the possibilities seem endless."

Don ducked his head as a shy feeling came over him. "I hope so. The technology is certainly needed."

"It's a shame your genius can't be recognized world-wide," Caleb said seriously. "I mean that too - I'm not trying to flatter you. I make a habit of not giving out false praise. You won't hear something like that from me unless I honestly believe it."

"It's true," Luke verified. "He's really not a good liar. I don't know how you pulled it off convincingly at the Institute, Caleb."

"I came in prepared by the phone call," he said dryly. "I spent the whole drive over working myself up. If I'd walked in there and been _surprised _by your presence, it would have been another story entirely."

Marcus grinned. "Honesty is a trait we've all had to uh...stretch somewhat since joining the group."

"That's putting it mildly," Donatello said. "We turn all of our friends into filthy liars. You can say it, guys, you know it's true."

"Only when it's necessary," Luke protested. "And you don't _ask_ us to do it."

"I'm curious..." Caleb started curiously, gazing around the half circle at everyone. "I'm not trying to be nosey, but I'm interested to know how you pulled off a successful pregnancy, for what is now obviously a healthy child."

Donatello took a deep breath. He'd expected the subject of Olivia to be broached again, but even being prepared for it didn't stop his heart from skipping. _He's just asking questions, not trying to get his hands on her. Chill out, _he ordered himself. "Well, for starters, it wasn't planned," he said. "I didn't think it was possible any more than you thought it would be. But Karina got pregnant, and suddenly all my own theories about our DNA got turned on their head. Conceiving a baby isn't so much the problem as is the issue of rejection. She showed early signs of an impending miscarriage. When it became clear her body was going to reject the baby, we started playing with stem cells a little bit.

"We used a technique that involved implanting small amounts of _our_ DNA in her uterus walls, repeating the treatment every three weeks or so. The cells were attacked by her immune system and eventually killed off, but they also imparted something important to Karina before they died. In essence, the constant injection of the cells helped enable her body not to reject Olivia, at least, not outright. But they also left her sick, and barely able to eat. We had her on an IV almost weekly, just to get the necessary nutrients she and the baby needed to survive."

"Did she carry Olivia to term?"

"Not quite," Luke replied. "Karina was in a car accident a couple of weeks before she was due, and the pregnancy was cut short. We performed a C-section to retrieve the baby, and Olivia was born a healthy little girl."

Caleb nodded. "That must have been a proud moment for you," he said to Donatello.

"I wasn't _there_," he muttered. "We were still in Okinawa when all of this happened."

"Geesh. When it rains in your lives, it certainly pours," Caleb remarked.

"I couldn't say it better," Marc offered. "But the storm clouds eventually recede."

"Thank God for that," Luke breathed. "We have a lot of work ahead of us...and you're going to have to guide the ship, Caleb. Are you still sure about taking this on?"

"I'm not jumping off, Luke, especially not after meeting them. Anchors away."

Luke ran a hand through his blond hair as he gave Caleb a weary smile. "The ship doesn't need to leave the port _tonight_. You need to get settled in, maybe actually unpack a few things?"

Caleb nodded as he got to his feet. He gave Donatello a sidelong glance before turning to the door. "I'll catch up with all of you later."

Don watched him go quietly, and then realized that Luke was staring at him. "What, Doc?"

"This is going to take some time, isn't it?"

"None of us really know what to expect with this treatment, do we, Doc?"

"I'm talking about Caleb."

"Doc, I'm okay with him. I am."

"I see your nerves, and I'm pretty sure he does too. Caleb's actually pretty perceptive."

"I'm not trying to make this _harder_, Doc, honest. It's just with Olivia—"

"You don't have to defend it, Donny. I understand. We just all have to try to get on the same page."

"I'm working on it, Doc."


	68. Rest

The crackling of the fire was so relaxing, it was making Leonardo somewhat drowsy. He was propped up on his side in the room he shared with Calley, waiting as patiently as he could for the young woman to arrive. Calley had looked as tired as he _felt__,_ but she had gotten caught up in one last task before she could come to bed. The blue-masked turtle felt himself drifting a couple of times, but shook his head to fight sleep from overtaking him. It had been a stressful and emotionally draining couple of days. He was ready for a little peace and quiet; a small retreat from the anxiety.

Leo raised his head when he heard the door creak quietly, and saw Calley enter the room.

"Hey," he called softly, his tone muffled under the influence of the environment. "There you are."

"Sorry I took so long, Leo. Becky needed help, and getting her to accept it took longer than I anticipated."

"You don't have to explain. C'mere," he invited her.

Calley lingered by the side of the bed, and gave him a wry smile. "You look comfortable."

"I'm tired. The bed feels good."

"You worked out _really_ hard this afternoon. You and Don went at it for a long time."

"Yeah," he allowed. "We probably pushed it harder than we should have, but it was needed, I think. We have so much built up stress, and exercise takes _some_ of it away. Being with you in this room doesn't hurt either."

Calley relaxed on her side of the bed, curling up to face him. "We don't have to talk if you're tired," she said. "You should get some rest."

"I will, but I've been waiting for the chance to have you to myself too."

"Uh huh. And_ what _exactly were you planning on doing when you got me?"

He gave her a half grin. "Whatever you wanted. I surrender to your power in this department, remember?"

"I _do_ remember."

The young woman scooted closer to him, giving him one of the gazes that made goose bumps rise across his arms. The blue-masked turtle held up a finger to stop her, and sat up to turn off the lamp beside him. When the bulb had been extinguished, the room was bathed in the shadowy glow of their small fireplace.

Leonardo settled down on the bed, opening his arms so Calley could snuggle against the crook in his elbow.

"I think we'll fare just fine here for the winter," she offered.

"Long as _you're_ going to keep me warm."

The woman rested her cheek against his shoulder and sighed contentedly. "What a difference a couple of years make," she whispered.

"Hm?"

"I'm just happy to be here, Leo. I'm glad the past is behind me. I wouldn't wish those circumstances on anyone, but it least they help me appreciate you more. I had too many cold nights when there was nothing but heroin to numb the pain...and all the drug did was drag me deeper into darkness." Calley raised her head to look him in the eye. "Does it bother you when I talk about things this way? It doesn't hold me down anymore, Leo."

"But it's still something you lived through," he returned. "I don't mind listening, as long as rehashing it doesn't affect you negatively."

"I didn't have it as bad as some of those girls did," she mused. "After all, I only had one 'owner', while the rest of the _sureibu _were used by a number of men before being sold off, one by one. I can remember hearing or seeing them sometimes, and in the back of my mind, I felt sorry for them. Their futures were so uncertain, whereas I knew exactly what the rest of my life was going to consist of. Escaping Shirou never occurred to me. I thought he would either kill me when he got bored with me, or I'd die from the heroin use. To wake up every day to the life I actually have is still astounding sometimes." Calley blinked away tears from her dark eyes. "I only hope the other enslaved girls that you freed from the Akiudo have found a fraction of the happiness that I have."

The arm he had around Calley tightened unconsciously, as he smoothed blond hair from her forehead with his free hand. "I hope you realize how happy you make _me_," he replied. "You're so much better than the Akiudo was, Calley, better than Shirou. If you hadn't wanted to recover, you wouldn't have made it, _koishii_. No matter how much help you had, you still needed your _own_ desire to escape it. You have to be one of the strongest people I've ever known, and I'm never going to let you forget it."

Leonardo covered her mouth with his, and she returned the kiss with a fervency that left him breathless. He smiled when she let go, enjoying the tingling feeling she left behind on his skin. "I love you."

"_Ai shiteru_," she answered perfectly.

"Your accent is getting really good."

"I won't pick up Japanese as fast as Becky did, that's for sure. But since over half this family will end up speaking the language, it makes sense to learn it from the best teacher."

Leonardo nuzzled her forehead as she lay down on his shoulder once more. "You're doing well, and I have even more time to teach you than before."

Her laughter pealed like a small bell. "I'm honestly looking forward to it, Leo. I'd love to be able to share this with you. The language was instilled in you at such a young age, and you speak it to this day. I want to pay some honor to that."

"You've given me so much already," he whispered. "I still don't think you see it sometimes."

Calley shook her head. "When you're broken down completely, it's always going to take longer, Leo. But I feel like I'm getting warmer."

* * *

><p>The blue-masked turtle wasn't in a hurry to get up the next morning. Something about being in the secluded wilderness with the ability to see the day from beginning to end made time slow down for Leonardo. He didn't even stir on the mattress until he felt Calley shifting beside him. Leo turned his head to see her sitting on the edge of the bed.<p>

"Good morning," she greeted him.

"Hi. You leaving already?"

"I told Karina I was giving her a break today, and I feel like getting some breakfast started. You hungry?"

Leonardo rolled over on his side. "I could eat."

"Good. You can come keep me company."

The blue-masked turtle remained where he was to watch the young woman finish getting dressed, and tousle her hair so that the short cut would fall correctly. As they headed downstairs, Leonardo heard the sound of someone already in the kitchen.

Calley folded her arms when she saw Karina in the room. "I _know _you're not working in here, right?"

"No, _hermana_," Karina said casually, and motioned to Olivia in the high chair. "My little girl isn't patient."

The baby turtle was trying to take the spoon that the woman had been using to feed her.

"Easy, _angelito_. You still want to eat, don't you? Mama needs the spoon."

Olivia squealed in protest when she held it out of her hand's reach.

"C'mon, baby girl, you've only got a little bit more. Let's try and finish it."

Leonardo stood to the side while Calley began rifling through the fridge.

"French Toast sounds good, doesn't it?" Calley suggested.

"It's been a while. I won't be in the way if I get some tea started, will I?"

Calley shook her head, granting him a meaningful glance over her shoulder before she returned to selecting ingredients. Leonardo had a calm, comfortable feeling come over him as he prepared the familiar brew, and fixed a couple of cups for Calley and himself. The smell of bacon hit him strongly when he sat down at the table across from Karina.

"It's a nice feeling to be taken care of, huh, Leo?" Karina nodded toward Calley.

"You girls are really good to us. If I only had myself to rely on, I don't know what I'd live off of. It would all be pre-packaged probably."

Leonardo was happy when Calley sat down to eat _with_ them, instead of only serving them. The blue-masked turtle took his time eating, and was close to finishing when Karina caught his eye.

"Are you following your normal morning routine?" she asked.

Leonardo looked outside. _The day _does _look promising, but it would be better to wait for Don._

"I think I'll get some quiet time in now like usual," he replied. "After I clean some stuff up."

"Don't bother, _hermano_," Karina said quickly. "Others will be up soon, and it makes more sense to me to clean things all at once. It will get done, you just go ahead downstairs."

"Well...okay," he said slowly. Leonardo kissed the back of Calley's head. "Thank you _koishii_."

"Leo, would you mind throwing up one of those baskets from the utility room real quick?" Karina requested.

He shook his head. "Hang on and I'll grab one."

Leonardo trotted down the stairs to the finished basement, reveling in the shafts of light filtering in through the windows. _We're going to have to get a run in today, no doubt._

He walked down the connecting hallway that branched to the right and went inside the tiled utility room. As he took a couple of steps to find the light switch something inexplicably tripped up his feet, and he went down on one knee before he could correct his balance. A deluge came down so quickly from above, he barely had time to duck his head. The strange flood only lasted seconds, but he felt like he'd gained about five pounds of weight as he slogged around on his knees to find a stable enough surface from which to rise.

The light came on with a _snap_, and Leonardo wasn't surprised to hear Mike's snickering. He _was_ shocked by the bright yellow color of the substance that was covering him. Leo hurried to wipe off the excess traveling down his forehead and fixed his brother with a glare.

"_Really_, Mike? Attacking anyone this early is just plain cruel."

"It's not early for you, Fearless. You're late." He snorted.

Leonardo grunted as he got up carefully, _now_ noticing the thin tripwire inside the door. "What am I, Raph's stand-in?"

"You didn't think I could wait _that_ long before having some fun again, did you? It's been weeks as it is!"

"Yes, _glorious_ weeks. What have you done to me?"

"Aw, it's only batter, Leo. It washes off, and it tastes good. I know how much you favor blue, bro, but yellow really suits you."

"You think so?"

Heedless of the possible consequences of his actions, Leonardo launched at his youngest brother, wrestling him to the floor in a giant bear hug. Once he had him down he pulled him across the tile to a point at which more of the flood had pooled after landing. Leonardo grinned in satisfaction as he pinned the orange-masked turtle, doing his best to get him saturated.

"It looks good on you too, Mikey," Leo said smugly.

Michelangelo's laugh was winded, and it made Leonardo jump off of him in a flash.

"Are you okay, Mike?"

His brother nodded, using the back of his hand to wipe batter off his cheek. "Yeah," he said a moment later. "I feel _alive_. Thanks for being a good sport, Leo."

The older turtle rolled his eyes. "Why do you have to be such a pain in the shell? Who's gonna clean this up?"

"I've got volunteers upstairs. Turns out everybody wanted to see me have a good time."

Leonardo shook his head, but he couldn't be angry with his little brother. He wanted Mike to act like himself, and this was _absolutely_ true to form for him. "You are one of a kind, Mikey."

"And you love me for it."


	69. Arrivals

Mike had a strong sense of anticipation as he waited on the porch with Rebecca. It had been a little over a week since Caleb had first set foot at Lotus Salvus, and three days since he and Luke had returned to Asheville for a couple of scheduled meetings with investors. They weren't expecting the men to return until tomorrow, but everyone still had something to which they looked forward to for _today_.

The rest of the family left behind in New York had arrived in North Carolina via a 757 earlier that morning, and were on the Blue Ridge Parkway, heading for the house. Michelangelo was excited about seeing everyone, but Brandon most of all. The orange-masked turtle tried hard to relax and focus on the calm surroundings.

A moderate breeze was making the tree branches sway, as though the plants were taking part in a ritual dance to celebrate the bold colors that were coming forth. Mike only had his sweatshirt on, but he was comfortable. He glanced at Rebecca, smiling secretively in admiration. From what the docs could tell, she was probably about nine weeks along, and he was relieved she hadn't had any major issues before the pregnancy had been discovered.

Luke and Donny had set up the first stem cell treatment for Rebecca before the doctor had left, to head off the possibility of miscarriage before it reared its ugly head. Becky had been taking everything in stride without complaining, even though Mike_ knew _she was in pain sometimes, and he'd yet to see her eat more than a couple bites at a time in the last two weeks.

The turtle exhaled slowly, picking up one of her hands in his own. "Are you feeling okay?"

She nodded, holding his gaze without flinching.

_Beck isn't a good liar when she doesn't have to be_, he reminded himself. _She's gonna be all right_. _The docs and Don will take care of her, even if I can't._

"How are _you_?" she emphasized.

Mike shrugged, because he didn't know what to say. Even the trip he'd made upstairs to find Donatello today had been much more difficult than it should have been. It had ended with Donny's stern lecture to avoid using the stairs and take it easier.

_How much easier can I take it? Shell, I _know_ that they don't expect me to stay in bed all day. I'm not that far gone, and I refuse to surrender to that._

Mike became suddenly aware that Becky was staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"I'm all right," he said. "More tired than I want to be, but I'm excited to see everyone too. It feels like it's been longer than it really has, doesn't it?"

Rebecca nodded. "For sure. I can only imagine how happy Marc is going to be to see April. The separation can't have been easy."

Mike shook his head. "I'm glad she's staying down here now. It will be good for Brandon to heal in a place like this too."

Rebecca chuckled. "It's starting to feel more like a hospital than a home. Between you, Raph, me, and now Bran...we're going to keep everyone hopping, aren't we?"

Mike grinned. "Yep. It's a good thing there are so many girls around to feed us. With the exception of Kat, that is." He snickered.

Rebecca gave him a serious look. "She's really tried, Mike. I mean, Karina has even coached her."

"Aw, no one's good at _everything_. Kat has her own set of tail-kicking talents. Why does she need to know how to cook, when she can beat someone from here to Texas? Have you ever gotten to see her and Brandon go at it?"

Becky shook her head. "They fight each other too?"

"They spar, just not in front of us. Kat's afraid it'll ruin Bran's image or something, but he told me the truth once. She can totally wipe the floor with 'im. Not like every single match; he actually comes pretty close sometimes. But the big sis comes out on top."

"Hm," Becky said thoughtfully. "I wonder if that's how it would be with Olivia and our baby."

Mike's eye ridges rose. "No kid of mine is gonna constantly get beat down by his cousin. I don't care _how _much practice it takes," he said impishly.

"You don't strike me as being a slave driver, Mikey."

He smiled, but before he responded to her, he noticed a small cloud rising above the trees.

"What, Mike?"

"Dust. I think someone's coming." Instinct told Mike to get out of sight until he was certain it was friends, but he got a glimpse of the van as it passed through the trees, and recognized it from Tim's description of the rental car.

Rebecca waved madly from the porch, and turned to the door. "I'm going to tell everyone that they're here."

As she disappeared into the house, Mike waited at the top of the steps, despite his desire to launch off the porch and run to meet them. When the van pulled up, April hopped out before it had even come to a complete stop. The red-head ran across the grass and the turtle opened his arms to greet her properly.

April hugged Mike tightly, clinging to him longer than he'd expected. When she met his gaze, she had tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she faltered.

"Ape, it's okay," he said quietly. "I'm still here. It's good to see you."

The woman nodded with a loud sniffle. "It's good to see you too."

"Go greet your husband. I'm sure he's dying to see you," Mike suggested, pointing to the front door.

April moved on into the house, and Mike noticed Tim and Victoria waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, guys," he said warmly. "So you found the place. What do you think?"

"I think it's more beautiful than Luke described." Victoria offered him a genuine smile, and gave the turtle a hug.

Tim looked at the open door behind Mike. "I hear you've been making friends with some dogs," he cracked.

"Which liar told you that?" Mike asked innocently. "Nah, Molly and Noah are cool. They're pretty entertaining to have around. I'm glad you guys could make it."

He embraced the man, and before he could blink his brothers and Greg had piled outside on the porch to help bring things inside, calling greetings as they went. Mike turned to face Brandon, who'd been standing by quietly. The man was wearing an oddly shaped cast and a sling over his right shoulder, but he looked fairly normal otherwise.

"Hi, Bran." Mike took a step in his direction, and the man swiftly moved to close the gap between them.

Brandon wrapped his good arm around the turtle, and Mike did his best to hold on to him without jarring his injured side.

"How are you doing with this thing?" Mike indicated the sling.

"It's all right. There's pain, but it's not supposed to last more than a few weeks. I can probably get the cast off in about six, but I still have to avoid high impact activities for weeks after that."

"Yeah, you, me, and Raph get to sit on the bench together," Mike said wryly. "Why don't you c'mon in? This place is even better inside."

Brandon followed him into the house, stopping to admire the angles of the massive ceiling in the Great Room. "This place is amazing. It feels like a mirage, as if it can't actually be real."

"It's real enough, Bran." Mike laughed as Katherine and Karina rolled into greet their brother, and Reina squealed from Kat's hip.

"Aw, you _didn't _forget your Uncle Bran, huh?" Brandon smiled at the baby. "I swear she's bigger, Kat. Your kid is growing like a weed."

"She and Olivia have been having a ball together," Karina told him. "They're practically like sisters."

"Where_ is _my other niece?" Bran asked.

"With the turtle you ain't noticed yet," Raphael called from a recliner.

The man did a half-spin to see the red-masked turtle, and shook his head sympathetically. "That's quite the contraption Marc set you up with, Raph," he remarked. "Are you picking up reception?"

"Come over here and I'll _give_ you a reception," Raph threatened.

Mike grinned as he looked away from Brandon greeting his brother and Olivia, and focused briefly on Marc and April in the corner. The two humans were enjoying their own reunion. It wasn't until April let go of Marcus that Mike realized how emotional the woman still was.

_Well...I guess it isn't easy on anybody. We've had a little bit of time for it to sink in, but all of them just got here._

When her green eyes flicked over to him he offered her another smile, and April faintly returned it. In the midst of the talking, laughing, and hauling going on around him, Mike felt like he was back in the middle of the greatest circus on Earth.

_It just doesn't get more fun than this_, he mused.

The orange-masked turtle was caught up in the chaos one second, only to be startled by a crash from the kitchen in the next. He spun and ran toward the next room without even giving it a second thought. Mike stopped when he realized there was glass on the floor, and his equilibrium was faltering dangerously.

"Mike, be careful," Calley warned him. "I dropped a mug when I was trying to hurry. Just a stupid mistake."

"It was an accident, Calley, you're allowed to have one of those," Mike replied, though he didn't try to move.

He locked his knees to give himself more stability, but then remembered that it was the wrong thing to do to keep from passing out. Calley was peering at him strangely, and he had no doubt she'd picked up on his inner struggle. Wordlessly the young woman snagged one of the chairs and brought it over to him.

"Sit down, Mike. You shouldn't have run like that," she chided gently. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," he said quickly. "It's not serious, sis."

Calley frowned at him, her forehead creasing with small wrinkles. "Don't move," she told him, and left the kitchen door swinging as she passed through.

Mike sighed as he looked down at the floor. _This is crazy. I can't accept not being able to move. What am I supposed to do, get myself a wheelchair?_

Before he could come up with a suitable answer for himself, Marc and April came into the room.

"Oh, that's not so bad." April observed the shattered mug. "I'll get this cleaned up right quick."

"What's going on, Mike?" Marc asked.

"I got dizzy is all," he replied. "Probably moved too fast."

The man nodded. "I would have to concur with that. How's your head feeling now?"

Michelangelo closed his eyes, but he still felt like the room was moving. Marcus crouched down near his level, and reached for his wrist.

"When you're not getting enough oxygen, it can affect your heart too, Mike. That's another reason you really have to be careful," Marcus told him.

The turtle nodded meekly, and shifted his weight onto his legs to stand up. Marcus stretched an arm around his back protectively, as if he'd be able to pick Mike up if he needed to. Mikey grinned at the mental image of the soft-spoken doctor trying to haul his shell around single-handedly.

"Can you take a couple small steps, Mike? Let's see how those work out."

The orange-masked turtle obediently shuffled forward, to prevent himself from getting off balance. "I've got to stop stealing the show," he muttered.

Marc's arm tightened around him. "When you need help, you need help, Mike. There's no sense in letting it get to you. We've all been in that position before."

"Some of us are here more often than others," Mike grumbled in return.

Marcus tried to stifle a laugh, but wasn't completely successful. "_You're_ the ones who don't want to retire."


	70. Refuge

Jenna beamed at Victoria as she started unpacking a bag and putting her mother's clothes away. "You traveled light."

"Well, you know Tim and I can only stay a few days. We've got to be back in the city next week. We wanted to give the extra carry-on room to Brandon and April. Actually, there are still a couple of special things in the van," she added mischievously. "But we didn't pick those up until we got to Asheville."

"What's _that_ look for, Mom?" she asked. "Are you keeping a secret?"

"It just occurred to us that a couple of you were going to miss something, if you haven't already."

"What did you do?"

"You'll find out. C'mon, we can leave those clothes for later. The boys have probably already brought the rest of the things in from the van."

Jenna tucked black hair behind her ear, smiling easily as she followed Victoria out of the bedroom. Being surrounded by everyone made the house feel much more like home. The sound of happy voices could be heard all the way from the second floor, and only increased in volume as she and her mother descended to the Great Room.

The first thing Jenna noticed was Donatello close to the front door, barely containing an excited smile. She'd always loved the way the turtle's face lit up when he was enthusiastic about something, even when it involved technical jargon she couldn't understand. Seeing him genuinely happy was one of the greatest gifts for whichJenna could have asked.

"Okay, Genius, they're here. What the shell are you hiding back there?" Raphael asked in irritation, waving a hand toward Jenna and Victoria.

"It isn't a huge deal," Victoria replied. "We thought you might like some entertainment being off your feet, Raph, and it snowballed from there."

The woman nodded at Tim, and Donny moved so that he could retrieve the first of three cases. The man took it over to the coffee table where the red-masked turtle could reach it. Jenna already knew what was inside just by the shape of the case, and she was certain Raphael did too. He slowly pulled the acoustic guitar out, holding it near his plastron.

"Oh, shell. Wow, you guys, you didn't have to do this," Raphael said.

"But we wanted to," Victoria replied. "You like it, don't you? It's not too shiny?"

The turtle shook his head. "It's a thing of beauty...I love the black. Thanks, guys. Thanks a lot."

"We knew you'd eventually miss the instruments you had to leave behind," Tim said morosely. "This won't take their place, but it gives you something to use in the meantime."

"C'mere and sit down, honey," Victoria invited Jenna.

The young woman swallowed as she laid eyes on the dark wood finish of the guitar in the next case, and she ran a hand experimentally over the strings. It was nothing close to a starter model.

"Mom, you didn't have to spend so much."

Victoria smiled at her. "Hey, it's all business for you, young lady. I expect you to keep writing."

Despite her joking tone, Jenna nodded seriously. "I want to make good use of our time here. I'm sure I can get some songs written over the next couple of months. Thanks, Mom."

The woman kissed her forehead. "After all that's happened, the music from you three is sorely needed around this place."

"It sure is." Mike grinned. "I vote for a sing-along_ tonight_."

Donatello looked up from his own instrument, flashing his brother a smile. "I think we can pull that off. We just need some time to tune, and we'll be good to go."

A thrill raced through Jenna's mind as she withdrew her guitar from the velvet insert. "You did good, Mom, you did _really_ good."

* * *

><p>Jenna waited about two hours longer than she really wanted to go upstairs. The musician in her desperately yearned to explore the new toy, but she also wanted to spend time with the others who'd only just arrived. Mid-afternoon she finally broke away with Donatello, so they could both set to the task of tuning the new guitars. The strap fit comfortably over the young woman's shoulder as if it had been made for her, and she wasn't sure how that was possible.<p>

"Nice, huh?" Donatello whistled. "It's got a good sound, even before it's been tuned properly."

Jenna nodded. "It feels good to hold."

"You know, if you really do want to write up here, we could find some equipment for you to record. I'm sure there's some place we could set up a little studio for you."

"It would be nice to keep some momentum," she said honestly. "There's something that's been running through my head anyway. I've been driving myself crazy trying to remember the chords."

Donatello laughed. "Your mom came at a good time. How far along are you with the song? Ready for me to hear some of it?"

Jenna gave him a wry smile. "I think that could be arranged, Don. Let me finish tuning, and I'll see how much of the chord structure I remember. I might end up needing to fool around a little bit to get it down."

The young woman concentrated on twisting the knobs exactly right to get the desired sound, enjoying the vibration of the guitar against her knee. She was drawn out of the focused state to watch Donatello after a while, as he meticulously worked on his own guitar. A memory flooded back to her of years ago, when she and Don had both been night owls, not long after they'd first met. The purple-masked turtle had found her fooling around with a keyboard in the Lounge, and joined her for a private session that was still etched strongly in her remembrance.

Jenna felt tears prick her eyelashes, and she hardly had time to try and blink them away before Donatello looked up at her.

"Jen? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's_ wrong_, Donny," she assured him, as she ran her fingers over all the strings at once to produce a full sound.

Don nodded approvingly, then gave her a pleading look. "Talk to me."

She shook her head. "I'd rather tell you a different way. Just give me a few minutes to work on this."

Jenna tapped a beat lightly against the instrument, imprinting the timing firmly in her mind before she began combining chords to create the loop that she'd only heard inside her head. She looked at Donatello to find him gazing at her patiently, not saying anything while he waited. She strummed through the rough structure of the piece a couple of times before she started to sing along with it.

_"For so many years I thought I had to go alone_

_Afraid to speak out loud so I tried it on my own_

_A lost and lonely child, who people didn't understand_

_Longing for someone to come and take me by the hand_

_Searching for salvation, a way out of the dark_

_Surrounded by the light outside, it didn't penetrate my heart_

_I never say you coming, no you didn't cross my eyes_

_The way you came onto the scene, you took me by surprise_

_Sheltered here in your embrace_

_I finally found a place I'm safe_

_Refuge, refuge_

_You're my refuge, refuge_

_Refuge, refuge,_

_You're my refuge, refuge."_

Jenna held the chord for a few seconds, and slowly let it fade out. When Donatello didn't speak, she looked up at the turtle questioningly. He got to his feet to join her on the bed, lightly tugging the guitar strap over her head to separate her from the instrument.

"Jen, I don't know how to describe this, I'm just...overwhelmed. It's beautiful, but even more so because it comes from_ you_."

The young woman set the guitar aside so he could get his arms around her. The room was silent, but it didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. It was one of the _fullest _silences that had ever surrounded her. She suddenly detected the tremor in Donatello's breathing, then saw the tears on his cheeks.

"Everything has been so messed up," he said brokenly. "From being forced to leave home and not knowing how the city is going to make it through all of this, to coming here and finding out about Mikey. You've been there, Jen. You've been so great, even when I was on the verge of falling apart completely. I don't know if I could do this without you, but I know I wouldn't_ want _to."

They lingered upstairs for as long as they could without making it seem like they were trying to avoid everyone else. A powerful sense of calm hovered over her subconscious as they traveled silently back downstairs. Donny's fingers lightly grazed her arm as they entered the Great Room, and Karina was the first one to notice their arrival.

The bronze-haired woman gave them a double-take. "Is everything okay?" Concern etched Karina's features as she glanced between them.

Jenna nodded rather than speaking. The subdued feeling that she and Donatello were under was persisting.

"We're fine, Karina," Don said quietly. "Honest."

The concerned look became one of bewilderment, and Karina shrugged. "Okay. Are either of you hungry?"

Donny gave Jenna a secretive smile, and the warmth spread over her once more.

"Is there something I can help with?" Jen asked.

Karina laughed. "No, it's your Mama's kitchen tonight. She didn't even want_ me _around doing anything. How did the guitars work out for you?"

"They're great," Donatello replied, and looked over the back of the couch at the red-masked turtle. "Has Raph put his down?"

Karina shook her head. "Only to hold Liv. I don't know why _I_ didn't think of this."

"Sure, because you didn't have anything else to think about, like trying to take care of all of us, or Raph, and let's not forget the baby," Donatello teased.

"The three of you need to pull something together," Karina said. "I'm being so serious. Just make sure that it's happy, whatever you do."

Jenna nodded somberly, and Karina chuckled again.

"You two are acting so strange."

Jenna reached for Donatello's hand, interlacing her fingers with his. "We're just a little enthralled, Karina. Don't mind us."

"That must have been _some_ guitar session," Karina cracked.

Jenna looked at Donatello as she answered the woman. "It never hurts to remember why you fell in love to begin with."

"Right...I'm gonna have to leave you kids alone before I start to get embarrassed."

As Karina walked away, Donatello's phone vibrated on his belt. When he hesitated, Jenna nudged him.

"Answer it, Don. It's got to be Doc," she said. "Everyone else is already here."

The purple-masked turtle withdrew the cell. "Hello? No, I can hear you just fine, Doc. How did the meeting go?"

Jenna watched his face closely for a reaction, but he remained impassive.

"That soon? Of course we will. Okay...great. We'll be here, Doc. Call me before you get on the road, all right? Talk to you later."

The young woman stared at Donny as he hung up the phone. "Well? How did it go? Did they get the green light from the investors?"

Don nodded with a huge smile. "Caleb acquired permission to take a furlough from the Institute. Luke told me he introduced him to the investors as an associate from New York, who was displaced by the earthquake."

"How does Luke factor into Caleb's work in their minds?"

"They're combining forces on the side, at least that's what they told the suits. Luke's family name is still a powerful force in these parts. People remember his parents. In any case, Caleb got the leave from the Institute, and obtained permission to temporarily relocate the equipment to reproduce cells. This is a _big _deal, Jen." Excitement returned to his voice full force. "It's a really big deal. It means we can get right to work on a solution for Mike, based off research that Caleb and others before him have already completed.

"Doc and I have to start on the receptor blocker. That's an important step, because we have to make sure that it's reformulated to suit our specific chemistry. We can begin on that at the same time that Caleb is creating new cells."

"Is it true that he wants to get cells from _all_ of you?"

"He's going to experiment with them. Studies have already been conducted where receptor blockers were capable of tricking the body's immune system in accepting cells that weren't even a genetic match. Using our cells may be the easiest way for Caleb to create new healthy stem cells for Mike."

The purple-masked turtle stretched over impulsively to kiss her, wrapping both arms around her waist. "We're going to make this work."

"That's very good news," she told him. "Are you going to tell the others?"

Donatello brushed her lips again before releasing her. "I'll get on that right now."

Karina took a seat next to Raphael, folding her arms as she stared at the red-masked turtle who was quietly strumming chords on his own guitar.

"Hey, remember me? Your wife? I'm still here," Karina told Raphael.

Donatello and Jenna shared a chuckle quietly among themselves.

"Some things never change," Jenna whispered.


	71. Support

Michelangelo had been lying awake on his side of the bed alone for several minutes, before he decided to get up and check on Becky. The young woman had left the room as quietly as she could, but she hadn't succeeded in slipping out without waking up the turtle.

_She shoulda been back by now._

Mike eased off the mattress and rose stiffly to his feet. He hesitated mid-stride as a coughing spell overtook him, and it took a few seconds to catch his breath. Mike fought to breathe from his diaphragm the way Marcus had taught him, and he slowly finished walking across the room. The turtle braced a hand against the doorframe as he passed under it, and he shuffled toward the bathroom down the hall. Rebecca had refused to use the one attached to their room.

_She was probably afraid I was gonna hear something. Why on earth is she trying to hide this, like the rest of us aren't going to know what's going on, _he thought anxiously_. We remember everything Karina went through with the stem cell treatments, and the 'rejection sickness.' It only makes sense that Beck's gonna deal with a lot of the same stuff, but I never pictured how hard it would be to watch._

The orange-masked turtle stumbled and had to lean against the wall for extra support to keep his bearings.

"Hello?" Greg's voice carried from the Great Room.

"It's just me, Heff," Mike called. "Are you and Bran still up?"

Greg appeared around the corner. "We came back down here a couple of minutes ago. Are you okay?"

"So, so," he admitted. "Beck's been gone for a while, so I was coming to check on _her."_

Greg nodded. "Do you know where she went? I'll help you look."

"Just the bathroom, I think. Do you mind standing by in case I need you?"

"No. I'll wait right here until you tell me otherwise."

"Will you hop on one foot while singing 'Take Me Out to the Ball-Game'?"

"Why would I do _that_, Mike?"

"I just wanted to see how far you'd go for me."

"Ye-ah, okay. Why don't you go check on your girl now?"

"Good idea." Mike walked a couple more paces and hesitated in front of the bathroom door. He knocked firmly. "Beck? Are you still in there?"

"Yes..." she called faintly.

"Do you need help?"

"Probably."

"Can I come in?"

"Uh huh."

Michelangelo turned the doorknob and found the young woman sprawled on the floor in front of the toilet. He took a sharp breath and got down on the tile beside her. "Becky? Can you get up?"

The curly-haired woman shook her head. "Not right now. Don't worry, Mike, I'll work up to it."

"The heck you will," he muttered, then raised his voice. "Heff, c'mere, would you?"

The man appeared at the door, and gave Mike a quizzical look.

"Will you help me up, then help _her_ up?" Mike requested.

Greg gave the turtle an arm off the floor, and exchanged places with Mike so he could reach Rebecca.

"Greg, it's fine," she told the man, but she couldn't keep her teeth from chattering that time.

"Don't be like that, Becky. Put your arms around my neck, and I'm going to get you up."

Rebecca didn't fight Greg any further, and Mike backed all the way into the hall as the man pulled her off the floor.

"You can leave me in our room," she suggested.

"I don't know." Greg hesitated. "I should get Donny and Marc, don't you think? That _was_ the first transfusion you had a couple days ago. They'd want to know how you're reacting."

"I second that," Mike agreed, and pointed Greg toward the Great Room.

He allowed the man to go first carrying Becky, hanging back as he struggled through another wheeze that had settled deep in his chest. Mike leaned partially against the wall as he trudged to the Great Room, and the journey seemed to take twice as long as it should have. His legs felt almost unbearably heavy as he gratefully dropped into a chair and gazed at his wife. Rebecca's head was leaning against the armrest on the couch. The young woman was still shivering, though he could now tell she was also sweating.

_Aw, Becky...why do you have to try to do this on your own? I wish I were strong enough to take care of you, _Mike thought, as he watched Greg cover her with a blanket.

Her blue-green eyes met him as if she could hear his thoughts, and Becky extended one arm out of the blanket toward him. Mike took her hand, gripping it with all the assurance he could muster.

"I'm going to grab Don and Marcus," Greg volunteered.

Brandon hovered in front of Mike and Becky, looking unsure. "What can I do, Mike? Anything?"

"Why don't you get Becky some water?" the turtle requested.

She raised her head a couple of inches. "Yes," she said hoarsely.

When Brandon had gone, the young woman turned her neck to face Mike, and he caught her grimace.

"Are you in pain?" he asked.

"Some. I got sick a couple of times...then I could hardly move. I didn't mean to keep you up."

"Would you quit worrying about me for a second, at least until we've taken care of you?" he chided.

Mike scooted to the edge of his chair, forgetting about the pain that was seizing his own chest as he tried to make her feel better in some small way. He brushed away the wild curls that were nearly covering her face, and rested his hand against her cheek.

"You're hot," he said quietly.

"Doesn't feel like it," she returned.

Brandon returned with water, and he had been thoughtful enough to stuff a straw into the neck of the bottle for her. "Nice to be down here with all of you," he commented. "We patients have to stick together."

Brandon quip made Mike smile, and he thought he saw Becky's lips curl up slightly too. The orange-masked turtle took a shallow breath as he studied the shaking woman.

_This has to be pretty normal, right? I shouldn't be getting worried yet, not unless Donny or the docs are. I wonder if they'd _tell_ me they were concerned at this point._

He was happy to hear the distinct pattern of his brother's feet on the stairs, followed by Greg's louder steps. The man went straight down the hall to rouse Marcus, while the purple-masked turtle came into the Great Room.

"What is this, the party _after_ the party?" Donatello seemed to be taking great strides to sound light.

"Oh yeah, party animals. You found us," Becky murmured from the couch.

Donatello knelt by the coffee table with his scanner in hand. "I'm just going to take a couple of readings, Becky. I won't bother you very much, I promise."

"You don't bother me," she said.

Donatello chuckled. "You'll change your tune by the time you have this baby. Ask Karina." He gazed over at Mike as he waited for the scanner to load results. The probing look made Mike wonder if he'd already heard the catch in his breathing. If his brother heard it, he chose not to say anything.

Brandon touched Mike's shoulder, gently encouraging him to sit back further. "Can I get _you_ something, Mike?"

"Not now, thanks. Aren't you tired, Bran?"

"With the amount of time I've spent sleeping? I've been bored out of my freakin' mind at that military installation."

"They took good care of you though, right?"

Brandon nodded. "It was great, except for the part when they held me against my will."

Marcus laughed humorlessly from the other side of the room. "Yeah, those darn hospitals treat you all like inmates, huh?"

"Absolutely - they're the worst." Brandon gave Marc a wry smile.

"Becky, have you kept _anything_ down today?" Don asked the woman suddenly.

She shook her head. "I tried to eat normally, Donny, it just didn't happen. Or I couldn't hold onto it, I should say."

The purple-masked turtle shook his head. "You're better at hiding this than Karina was. Don't suffer silently, Becky. When you're having issues like this, it can be indicative of a bigger problem that we _need _to know about."

"Am I okay?"

"You're in the beginning stages of the rejection sickness that's induced by the stem cells. After you've had a couple of transfusions, it shouldn't be as severe; at least, it wasn't for Karina. But we need to know about _everything_, understand? No matter how small and insignificant it might seem to you. You're already too dehydrated, and that's not good for you,_ or _the baby."

"Do you want to do an IV tonight?" Marcus asked.

"Isn't it a little soon for that?" Becky returned.

Donatello shrugged. "We have the machine, and it would help you feel better, Becky. It's portable enough to bring down here, and I could set you up in your own bed."

"Okay," she agreed.

By the swiftness of her assent, Mike knew she was feeling worse than she wanted to let on. _Darn it, Becky. You don't want to be a problem or to add to the burden, and you're putting yourself last. I can't let you do that._

"Greg, would you mind taking Becky back to the room, and Marc and I will gather what we need," Don instructed.

The man gathered the young woman up and gave Mike an impish grin.

"Don't get used to carrying my wife around," Mike said sardonically.

"Please," Greg scoffed. "Once you go_ turtle_, you don't go back."

The way Brandon burst out laughing made Mike's smile wider.

Rebecca gave all of them a withering look. "Greg's got a beautiful Asian flower of his own, Mike. I don't think I'm going to be the one to tempt him away, particularly in this condition."

Mike focused on the young woman and shook his head. _I doubt she'll ever understand how beautiful she is, and not just to me._

The orange-masked turtle straightened out the blanket on the bed so that Greg could put the young woman down.

The man patted her shoulder kindly. "Now you're safe and sound."

"Is your _back_ safe and sound?" she asked.

Greg snorted. "I think you must have this vision of yourself weighing a whole lot more than you actually do."

"Whatever you say, Greg. Thanks for helping me."

"Anytime."

Mike nodded gratefully too. "Will you make sure Bran gets some sleep too?"

Greg nodded. "I'm on it already. He doesn't have another hour in him, I guarantee it."

When Don and Marcus returned with the IV machine, another furry head poked inside the room curiously.

Michelangelo heard a soft meow, and he shifted onto his side on the bed. "Hey, c'mere, Tiger," he called.

The orange and white cat slipped into the room, skirting around Donatello as he was setting up the machine.

"Look who decided to grace us with her presence, Beck." Mike nudged her lightly.

Rebecca smiled as the cat trotted across the mattress and came to rest in between Mike and Becky.

"Well, you guys can have the rest of the night off," Mike joked. "Tiger is going to take things from here."

Rebecca rubbed her hand over the cat's head, and the feline started purring almost immediately.

"She always seems to know when she's needed," Don remarked. "You're the chosen ones tonight, Mike. How is your airway faring? Are you having trouble breathing?"

"Some."

"How descriptive," Marcus replied. "A little more please?"

Mike shrugged. "I think I need to sit up further."

"I'll grab another pillow." Marcus headed out to the hall.

"We've got great service here, huh, Beck?" Mike caressed another curl out of her face.

"The very best, Mikey."

"You guys can kind of keep an eye on each other too," Donatello said. "Unless you want me to sleep over again."

"Don't make yourself too comfortable, Donny," Mike answered. "Tiger's already staked her claim, so you'll have to come back another night."


	72. Starting

Donatello barely noticed the passing hours of the morning. He was consumed with the task of chemically altering the receptor blocker they needed for Michelangelo, but thoughts of Rebecca were also nagging at the back of his mind.

_Last night was pretty heavy, but Karina had a severe reaction after the first transfusion too. We just have to try it again in a few more days. I don't want to overwhelm Rebecca's body, especially if we're not seeing immediate signs of a miscarriage._

The purple-masked turtle leaned back in his chair, as anxious thoughts for his new niece or nephew distracted him. _I don't want to disappoint Mike or Becky, and I don't want to lose this baby. I don't know how everyone would deal with that right now. I sure wish I could focus on _one_ thing at a time, _he thought ruefully.

Donatello looked away from the computer screen and massaged his temples. The headaches had come on stronger ever since getting his skull fractured by a drunk driver in January, but thankfully the other symptoms had faded. He'd woken up too early after the interrupted evening, and he'd been unable to simply lie in bed when there were so many things to do.

_I can get some rest later. I'll make sure I stop at some point this afternoon, or...I wonder what time it actually is._

He glanced at the clock, and realized it was already a little after 11AM, which meant Doc and Caleb would be there soon. Donatello scooted up to the desk and typed with a flourish to save his current work. _Time got away from me this morning. I should have been down to check on Raph. I'm sure no one's ignoring him, but he's my _brother_.__ I can't keep pushing him to the back burner just because of everything else going on._

Donatello picked up the empty thermos upon which he'd come to rely for his caffeine fixes, and he headed downstairs to the Great Room to see who was out and about. He heard the sharp sound of barking right before Leonardo opened the front door, flanked by the two Border Collies prancing over each other to get inside.

Molly made a beeline for Donatello, and the turtle took a moment to greet each dog before looking at his brother.

"Taking a break?" Leo asked.

He nodded. "At least until Doc and Caleb get here, which shouldn't be long."

"Are you holding up okay?"

"Sure. I didn't get much sleep, but I'll catch up later."

The blue-masked turtle gave him a stern look. "Make sure you do that, Bro, or I'll come after you."

"Do you know where Raph's hanging out?"

"He's in the back today. Karina and Kat took the babies that direction too, about an hour ago."

"Thanks. Are you keeping an eye out for Doc?"

Leonardo nodded. "I'll let you know when they get here."

Donatello heard the commotion coming from the back of the house before he could _see_ any of it. He grinned as gibberish erupted between the two little girls. _You'd swear they were talking to each other._

The purple-masked turtle ambled into the room, nodding at Kat, Karina, and his older brother in turn. "Hey, Raph. How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Just following doctor's orders, like usual."

"Has the novelty worn off already?" Don grinned.

"You guys outnumber me. What's a turtle to do?" Raph returned. "Uh, Donny? You've got a visitor."

Donatello looked down, and realized that Reina had toddled over to him. The blond girl was looking at his belt imploringly. "You've gotta be kidding me," he told the baby. "All this stuff to play with, and you still want my keys, kid?"

"_You're_ the one who got in the habit of letting her have them." Raphael snickered.

Don sat down on the floor with a sigh and unhooked the ring from his belt. _I don't know if I'm going to need them again. We don't know what happened with the Battle Shell. We never were able to retrieve it. It might not _matter_ if she loses them, _he mused silently.

Reina giggled as she shook the keys in her balled fist. Not to be outdone, Olivia began crawling his direction too. The little turtle sat up on her knees, and patted Donatello's leg insistently.

"I only_ have _one set of keys, Liv. You're going to have to wait until your cousin is finished with them."

The turtle's lip trembled as if she actually understood what he'd said.

"Don't start crying, Olivia, c'mon. I can't take them away from Reina now that she's got them."

The blond girl walked off triumphantly with her prize, just as Olivia started crying.

"Way to go, Donny. She's been satisfied all morning until _you_ showed up," the red-masked turtle cracked.

Donatello reached for the baby turtle and scooped Olivia off the floor. "You're going to get me in trouble with your Mama, now stop crying. I'll play with you, okay?"

The squirming baby wasn't interested in playing with him. Olivia was too busy twisting around, trying to see where Reina had gone with the keys.

"Karina?" Don called. "A little help here?"

The woman chuckled as she took the baby from him. "You're gonna be mean to your Uncle Donny today, _angelito_? You probably need your nap."

Katherine got to her feet too. "They should both go."

Kat picked up Reina and gently pried the keys out of her hand. "Sorry, baby. Daddy will be home soon, and you can see him when you wake up."

Reina's squawk of protest rose to join Olivia as the sisters carried the babies out of the room.

Donatello replaced his keys on his belt and shook his head. "That went well, huh? I know what I'm getting them for Christmas. Keys - nothing but keys."

Raphael chuckled. "Anything they're not supposed to have, that's what they want, Genius. Leo spent 20 minutes looking for his phone today before we realized Reina had taken it. It was mixed in with their little toys in the Great Room. What have you been doing with yourself today?"

"Whatever I can get done on my own. I've been studying the composition of the receptor blocker so that Doc and I can tweak it for Mike, and going over notes from Karina's pregnancy to refresh myself for helping Becky...that kind of thing."

The red-masked turtle winced. "Yeah, Kari said that Becky had a hard night. I knew something was weird when she didn't come out this morning."

"Marc and I asked her to stay put in bed for most of today. The beginning of the cycle was the hardest part for Karina ...let's hope the same is true of Becky," Donatello said.

"Crossing my fingers, Don." Raphael shook his head. "It wasn't easy to watch with Kari. On the other hand, the baby gives them something else to focus on, other than the fact that, y'know, Mike could be dying."

Donny stiffened. It was a known reality that Mike had a fatal condition, but no one had been able to talk freely about their brother in the context of him actually passing away. He couldn't think of anything to say to Raphael, so he didn't bother trying to come up with something.

"You look tired, Don," Raph said judiciously. "Were you up too early?"

"I couldn't go back to sleep."

His brother nodded with sigh. "Too busy trying to save the world."

"Just Mike and his baby," Donatello tried to say more lightly. "That and not lose sight of you at the same time."

"Donny, don't you worry about me," Raphael insisted. "I'm not one of the lives at stake here, right?"

"You still matter."

"Not like them. Don't worry if you feel like you're ignoring me. That's just more attention they're getting."

Don shook his head. "You're going to be a tough pain in the shell about this, huh?"

"_You're_ the pain," Raphael countered. "Just do what I said."

"Would it be completely inappropriate for me to say, 'make me?'"

"Depends. Is it inappropriate for me to throw this lamp at you?"

Donatello's phone vibrating interrupted the laugh that was bubbling up. He held up a hand to signal Raphael to hold on and answered the cell.

"Doc and Caleb are about five minutes out, Don. Thought you'd want to know," his oldest brother told him.

"Okay. Thanks, Bro." The purple-masked turtle lowered the phone to hang it up, and was startled when a pillow struck him in the side of the head.

"_Hey_!"

Raphael grinned smugly. "Don't tempt me into coming after you, Donny. There are ways I can torture you that don't require walking, particularly with the wife _I've_ got."

Donatello laughed. "You mean like the way she totally set Leo up for Mike last week?"

"Exactly. I'm not harmless, Bro, don't forget that."

"I never will, Raph. Doc and Caleb are about five minutes away, so I need to go meet them. Do you want us to bring you up front?"

"Nah, I think I'm just gonna chill. Kari's gonna come back anyway. Really, Donny, you don't have to worry about me."

Donatello excused himself to watch for the others along with Leonardo. Even the dogs were waiting by the door, as though they instinctively knew that their human was supposed to be arriving soon. A rush of barking signaled the men's approach, and the blue-masked turtle opened the door before the Border Collies could scratch it up.

Donatello went out onto the porch to meet them, and caught a grin from Luke.

"I've got a couple of ideas, Don. Have you been looking at the structure of the receptor blocker too?"

Donatello nodded. "We'll have to compare notes. I want to hear what you're thinking."

"Definitely - I want to hear from you too. We've got some sensitive equipment to get inside," Luke mentioned.

"Caleb, Leo and I can handle the instruments if you'd like to wrangle the dogs," Don suggested to the bespectacled man.

Caleb nodded. "You're probably more eager to get started than I am, and that's saying a lot."

* * *

><p>Donatello and Luke spent the first hour after they'd reunited sharing the work they'd done independently. Donatello was so wrapped up in their discussion, he didn't really notice what Caleb was doing with the specialized equipment. Donny had already donated some of his own stem cells for the man's experimentation, and he figured Caleb wouldn't take long to start analyzing them.<p>

"The thing that I'm most concerned about is not shutting his T-cells down completely," Donatello said.

"That's the whole trick of _blocking_, Donny. It's only supposed to affect the introduced stem cells - that's the scenario we're shooting for."

The purple-masked turtle sighed anxiously. "We have to get this right, Doc. If we don't create the correct composition for the blocker, no amount of cells that Caleb can produce are going to do Mike any good."

"Hey," Luke said quietly. "We're in a decent position here, Don. We've got the equipment in place, and we have the expert to guide from the helm. We'll get this straightened out."

Don nodded soberly. "We will," he replied with certainty.

He suddenly noticed that Caleb had been silent for a long time. Donatello glanced over his shoulder at the man, and saw Caleb bent over an interesting-looking microscope. Donatello tried to read his expression when Caleb went to write something down, but it was hard for the turtle to decipher.

Don poked Luke's side, and nodded at Caleb. "Is he okay?"

Luke looked uncertain. "Silence can be good _or _bad. There's only one way to find out for sure."

Luke climbed to his feet and Donatello followed him across the room.

"How's it going, Caleb?" Luke asked. "What are you doing over here?"

When the older man gazed at them, his amazement shone clearly through his eyes. "These cells are extraordinary candidates for becoming iPs cells," he proclaimed, fixing on Donatello. "Their structure isn't...it's not completely stable. They have strong _tendencies,_ which makes it appear that most of your stem cells follow a specified genetic order. But they're also adaptable, easier to manipulate than, say, a typical human stem cell. It's the most fantastic thing to witness, and it's good news as far as your brother is concerned."

"You're saying that 'reprogramming' our stem cells isn't going to be difficult," Donatello tried to clarify.

"It shouldn't be," he answered. "The thing you still have to understand is that this is new technology. We're embarking on a journey that no one's taken before, and it's not going to be flawless. I wish I could tell you that I can create perfect iPs cells that will behave exactly like the embryonic variety, but I'm not there yet."

"But this gives you a reason to feel optimistic?" Luke asked hopefully.

Caleb nodded. "I'm feeling _very_ optimistic based on what I've seen in the last few minutes, and that's without studying the samples from your other brothers. It could be any number of cells between the four of you that end up being the best candidate overall for reproduction and transplanting. I'd like to get cultures from Leonardo and Raphael soon." His tone had a hint of apprehension, as if he wasn't sure of how he would be received.

"We're all prepared for that eventuality," Don replied. "I've explained to them why the genetic differences between us don't matter as much in this case. There's nothing we won't do to help Mike...though my preference would be that you stick with _me_ for as many things as possible."

Luke made a scoffing sound. "You watch, Caleb. The next thing he'll be saying is that he wants you to test the therapy on _him _before you use it on Mike."

"Why on earth would I do that?" Caleb was confused.

"Because Donny thinks that being a guinea pig is part of his job description," Luke replied.

"It's not that bad of an idea," Don wheedled. "It wouldn't _hurt_ to run the receptor blocker past me first."

"_Donatello_." Luke groaned. "Just quit while you're still ahead, will you?"

"Would you mind if I have a look at what's under the scope?" Donatello asked.

Caleb shook his head, moving swiftly to the side to give the turtle access to his equipment. In that moment Donny was more distracted by the speed with which the man got out of the way than the sample he'd wanted to see.

He only looked at Caleb briefly, since the man was watching him too closely for the turtle to get a chance to study him. The way the man folded his arms protectively across his chest indicated the erected barrier. _He's retreating_, Donatello realized. _Come to think of it, I've barely seen him outside of the Lab since they got back. I think the lack of complete trust that's been placed in him from the beginning is causing Caleb to mind his distance with us. We can't let this continue._


	73. Brotherly Affection

Michelangelo bent over his notebook in concentration, trying hard to focus on the pages he wanted to finish. He was a little over halfway through the chapter, but weariness was pulling on his eyelids. He rested his forehead on the desk allowing visions of Aidan Starr, his female heroine, to run through his subconscious. He'd been having a hard time capturing the setting to his satisfaction, and sometimes it helped to stop and envision the scene happening in front of him, like a moving picture on a screen. Mike's imagination wasn't cooperating today; he simply felt like he was about to fall asleep.

A knock at the door had him raising his head and looking over his shoulder. "What's the password?"

"Cocoa," came the response from the hall.

Mike sat up further in his chair. "Marshmallows?"

"Yep."

"Okay, come in," Mike called amiably, grinning when his purple-masked brother opened the door. "Hey, Bro. Descending from on high to mingle with the common folk? Isn't it a little early in the day for that?"

"Had to get out of that Lab for a while."

"Tell the truth, Don. You got kicked out, didn't you?"

"I left voluntarily; it's not the same thing."

"_Uh huh_. So where is this cocoa of which you speak?"

"Oh, Leo's bringing it. He'll be here in a minute - I think he was waiting on the popcorn too."

"He didn't _make_ it, did he?"

Donatello chuckled. "Do you smell anything burning? That ought to tell you something. He's just delivering it. We thought we'd invade you for a little bit. I'm not interrupting your flow, am I?" He indicated the notebook Mike still had sitting open on the desk.

"No," he said dismissively. "I'm not getting anywhere today."

"Are you still trying to figure out which guy Aidan is going to end up with?"

Mike smiled. "She hasn't made up her mind. I don't see how anyone could be that confused over two guys."

Donny shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time in history that someone wasn't sure who they loved more, Mike."

"I guess not. The guys are so different though, like night and day. I don't know why she even started falling for the chemist - she wasn't supposed to. I set this whole plot up from the start for her and Grant to finally end up together. Now he's leaving the Agency, and she's_ supposed _to follow him, only Aidan isn't cooperating with me. She's too busy pining after the dude who she and Grant were supposed to protect."

"Maybe you shouldn't have given her so much alone time with the chemist. What did you _think _was going to happen?"

"Andrew isn't even her type," Mike protested. "He's about the furthest thing from someone she'd be interested in. The guy doesn't even know how to get his hands dirty."

"But no one before him has_ ever _treated Aidan like a lady; you told me that yourself."

The orange-masked turtle threw up his hands helplessly. "I don't know. I just need her to make a decision, so I can move on."

"Did _you_ decide if she's going to find her missing brother before it's too late?"

"I'm not gonna be able to kill Blake. I thought about it, but..." Mike trailed off for a moment. "It hits too close to home. All those times we've been separated and in those awful spots...the idea of her not finding him in time is like fulfilling my greatest fear."

Don nodded. "I definitely agree with you there. It's your story, but I'd hate to see Aidan lose her brother before she even learns that he never sold her out."

"She already knows that deep down," Mike affirmed. "I mean, it's her _brother_. He's almost died to protect her before, and Aidan can't accept that he'd betray her like that. All the evidence in the world doesn't add up to much when you really know someone."

Donatello smiled. "I love how much thought you put into this. When I'm reading, Aidan feels just as real to me as one of our other friends. I just hope she picks the right guy to be with. Which one _is _the right choice, Mike?"

"I already know you favor the chemist, Don. Brainiacs stick together."

"It's not just that, Mike. Andrew brings a different reaction out of her than anyone else has ever gotten. I think that's significant. Grant is the obvious choice. They have so much in common, it makes sense. But I think Aidan and Andrew would really complement each other."

"Yeah, well...she's still thinking about it."

"That's fair," Don replied. "Gotta give a woman the time she needs."

Leonardo edged the bedroom door fully open with his foot, as he crossed into the room with a tray. Mike perked up with interest as his blue-masked brother dropped off a mug at the desk first.

"Got a little held up," Leo said apologetically. "Calley and I couldn't find the popcorn."

Mike scooped the bowl off the tray he was holding. "Good. What are you guys gonna eat?"

Leonardo shook his head as he sat down on the end of the bed by Donny.

Mike blew on his cocoa before taking a tentative sip. "That's good stuff," he remarked. "Is it very cold outside?"

Donatello glanced at the window. "It's a little cooler today; it probably won't get out of the forties. It's going to rain eventually. The backdrop of the leaves against the dark sky was still pretty impressive on our run."

"I miss working out with you guys," Mike confessed. He'd watched Leo and Don leave the property earlier that day, and counted the minutes for almost an hour before they returned. "I'm going to have to find _some_ way to vent that doesn't leave me breathless."

"We miss you too, Mikey," Leonardo returned. "This is temporary though. They're getting closer to the transplant every day, aren't you guys, Donny?"

It had been almost a month since Caleb had arrived at Lotus Salvus, and all the doctors had been in deep research mode ever since. Donny coming to simply "hang out" had become somewhat rare as the purple-masked turtle and Luke had been focusing on the receptor blocker for which they were responsible. The fact that Donatello had come to simply _be_ with him gave Mike the sense that his brother was feeling confident.

_When Don's unsure, he'd rather avoid me altogether. His being here this casually has to be a good thing._

Donatello sipped what was _presumably_ cocoa from his own mug, but Mike had to wonder if he was still riding on a caffeine trip.

"Caleb's reproduction equipment doesn't have to be monitored constantly, so the machine has been running almost 24 hours a day." Donatello hesitated before continuing. "Luke and I finished the preliminary testing on the receptor blocker."

"What does that mean for me?" Mike asked.

"It means we'll be ready to start implanting some new stem cells in a couple of days."

The orange-masked turtle swallowed, but managed to smile. "Caleb still likes what he's seen from the samples?"

"Raph's culture has stood up to being the best candidate for reproduction, and believe me, Caleb went over _a lot _of samples."

Mike groaned. "Great. Now Raph's gonna think he's the savior of the world or something."

Leonardo smiled. "He can think what he wants to think. The important thing is that they're getting somewhere."

Mike nodded, focusing on Donny again. "Are you nervous about this?"

His brother didn't seem to want to meet his gaze. "You could say that. It's uh...it's not like anything we've done before."

"Y'know, Don, if this doesn't work..." Mike searched for the best words, but then decided to take the plunge. "If I don't make it, you're not allowed to feel responsible. You guys have been doing everything you can, and I'd be really mad to know that you didn't give yourselves any credit for that."

Donatello nodded slowly. "I know, Mike. I feel calm about the procedure as a whole, it's just...wondering whether these iPs cells will actually perform the same way that embryonic stem cells do, and hoping that the receptor blocker will effectively trick your T-cells into accepting them. These are things that we won't know for sure until we try. I'd sure like to do more testing, but..."

His brother didn't finish, but Mike knew what he was thinking. _The more time passes, the more tissue is being killed off. They can't afford to wait any longer than they have to._

"But enough of this positive conversation." Mike offered both his brothers a grin.

"Some of it_ is _positive, Mike," Leo replied. "Moving is better than standing still."

Mike took the popcorn bowl off the desk where he'd been hogging it, and held it out to Leo. "I don't know about you guys, but this puts me in the mood for a movie. It almost feels like a day for a horror flick."

Don's eye ridges rose. "You and scary movies haven't always mixed well."

"You're thinking of_ Raph_, Donny, and he'll be fine as long as we don't bring up Amityville Horror. I've sure hung out in my room long enough today. I want to see something besides these walls."

Truth be told, he'd slept in for hours longer than was usual, and was frustrated when he _still_ felt tired. _I need something to liven me up, and I think a scary movie would do the trick._

At that moment a black and white head peered through the open door. Mike chuckled at the way Molly snuck into the room, and jumped onto the bed behind Donatello. "Hey, Bro, your girlfriend found you."

"She's a _dog_, Mike. I keep telling you she can't have a crush on me," Donatello protested.

Leonardo laughed. "She's certainly attached to your shell, Don. She was waiting outside your bedroom door this morning."

The purple-masked turtle rolled his eyes. "See what you started, Mike?"

Michelangelo rose from the desk chair to steal a handful of popcorn, and dropped a few kernels where Molly would find them. "I can try and bribe her, Donny, but you'll still be her favorite. Embrace it."

Donatello had probably been resisting the urge to pet the Border Collie because of his teasing, but he couldn't hold off forever. Molly rested her head on Donny's knee as he lightly scratched her ears.

"Can you actually keep denying it, Don?" Mike snickered.

"I'm not listening to you."

"Then why'd you just respond?"

"I said, I'm not listening."

Mike grinned as he headed to the hall with his mug still in hand. "I'm gonna find out what our movie options are. You comin', Leo? I bet Molly would like some 'alone time' with our brother."

"If you don't quit it, I'm going to make a special note to kick your shell on a later date," Donatello warned him.

"But you can't touch me _now_."

"You're seriously tempting me."

Leonardo gave Mike a small nudge from behind to get him moving. "All right, you two, neutral corners."

Mike shot Donny one more teasing smile, and walked down toward the Great Room with Leo while his purple-masked brother headed back to the Lab. Leonardo rested an arm on his shoulder as they entered the room together, and Mike sensed the encouragement and support in the older turtle's touch without Leo saying a word. With a parting pat, the blue-masked turtle headed for the kitchen.

Mike gazed roamed appreciatively over the roaring fire before coming to rest on Becky. The woman was sitting on the end of one of the couches with her legs curled up underneath her.

"Did you get anything written?" she asked.

"A little - not as much as I wanted to. Are you warm enough, Beck?"

The young woman nodded. "Are you going to keep me company now?" she asked impishly.

"You bet. Is there room for my big shell over there?"

"There might be." Becky patted the cushion beside her.

As Mike sat down he tugged on the stray curl that had escaped from her ponytail, and she turned her head to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"You're not getting off with that," he chided, wrapping both arms around her. She kissed him squarely on the lips, and the turtle nodded. "Better. We can practice more later."

"Are you saying I need work?"

Mike shook his head. "No. I just think it would be fun."

"You'll make any excuse to get us alone."

"You know it, babe."

"What do you want to do in the meantime?"

"I was thinking about a scary movie."

"Doesn't that count Raph out?"

"Don't let him hear you say that. I wasn't supposed to tell you about Amityville."

Becky gave him a soft smile. "Whatever makes you happy makes _me_ happy. I think the remote is around here somewhere."

Mike spied it on the floor by the coffee table and scooped it up. "Hey, Leo!" he called toward the kitchen. "C'mere and help us pick a movie!"

Leonardo came back into the Great Room with Calley at his side. The blond woman had one of the most amused expressions that Mike had ever seen on her.

"Are you in the mood to actually scare yourself, or do you want to laugh at something so ridiculous that you can't believe anyone would take it seriously?" Calley asked Mike.

"I'm not sure. I'm feeling the second option more, unless we can get Raph down here. Then I'd say go with the first one." He smiled deviously. "Are you like some secret expert on all things horror?"

Calley chuckled. "No, it's just my dad used to like to make fun of some of those old scary movies with me."

"What's the weirdest one you ever watched?" Becky asked.

"That would have to be 'The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed Up Zombies.'"

"I call_ bull _on that title." Mike laughed.

"Google it, Mikey. It's a real movie."

"The title alone makes me want to see it." Rebecca giggled.

"No kidding. You'd think they could have made it a little longer, so it definitely wouldn't fit on a movie poster," Leonardo offered.

"It doesn't have quite the same ring as 'Halloween', does it?" Calley replied.

"I think we're going to be stuck with whatever's on the satellite dish," Becky spoke up. "Unless you carry that other movie on you randomly."

"It _was_ released on DVD," Calley told her.

Leo shook his head. "Is there anything people won't buy? Let's find something a _little _worthwhile."

"That's asking a lot of a horror movie, bro." Mike snorted.


	74. Friendship

Raphael was getting familiar with being surrounded by the technical speak of the "brains", as he'd been lovingly referring to the docs and Donny. Today, however, he wasn't interested in listening to Chinese. They were getting ready to move forward with the first of the stem cell treatments for Michelangelo, and the red-masked turtle wanted to understand as much as possible. He didn't usually like asking many questions when Mike was sitting by too, but he was getting to the point where he simply didn't care.

_Shell, I know Mike's got more questions than I do. Just 'cause we might not understand the answer is no reason not to ask._

Raphael turned as he felt his brother's gaze fix on him, pleading blue eyes giving him all the encouragement he needed.

"Caleb," Raphael called, breaking the man's staring contest with the microscope. "We need you to go over this again, slowly." He snuck a glance at Mike, and his younger brother nodded. "Walk it through from the beginning."

"We're going to be using a method of implantation that will involve directing the iPs cells into the lining of Mike's lungs, where oxygen is absorbed and carbon dioxide is excreted. The goal with the first treatment is to implant cells that will hopefully then transform into new lung tissue. The second wave we'll perform later will involve flooding the lungs with the iPs cells that have been cultured, with the goal of overpowering the mutated cells that are destroying tissue.

"On this first try we want to focus primarily on the lung tissue itself, and begin regenerating portions. This will also be the true test of the iPs cell's ability to adapt, and the receptor blocker's success rate in teaching the immune system to ignore them. The second part of the stem cell treatment is going to need to wait a few more weeks," Caleb finished.

"Why do you have to wait?" Mike asked.

"First of all, because I want to give those iPs cells more time to mature, and the specialized equipment will bring them up to speed quicker than the natural environment of the lungs. Secondly…because the 'free form' cells are where the most risk for rejection lies."

"What happens if my body _does_ reject them?" Mike wanted to know.

"That's a case where a lot of different scenarios are possible. I've explained to you that none of these methods have been tested on humans, let alone someone with your special biology. The main risk of the immune system rejecting the iPs's shouldn't be a factor, but if the manipulated stem cells aren't stable enough to hold their own against the mutated ones, it could end up making you sicker."

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" Mike pressed.

Part of Raphael wanted to cover his ears and not listen to what was coming next, but if his little brother could live with the knowledge, so would he.

"There could be additional respiratory problems, pulmonary distress, shock...basically a number of conditions that would spell bad news," Caleb said carefully. "Which is why we're proceeding slowly. I don't want to call this strictly a trial run, but that's kind of what it is. If we're successful at integrating the iPs's into new lung tissue, then we'll move on to the second phase of the transplant."

"And rejection doesn't always happen immediately, right?" Mike clarified. "It can take days or weeks, even months. I thought that was what Doc said."

The man nodded. "That's another reason we want to allow a delay between treatments. If all goes well on this one, then the following treatment will possess both halves of the solution. We'll implant additional iPs's into the lining of the lungs to continue the new tissue trend, and we'll release the flood to fight the mutated cells. The most promising thing about this therapy is that the naturally occurring cells within the lungs don't reproduce readily. That means there are a limited number of these 'rogue' cells, and in theory we can keep pounding the lungs with the healthy kind until good triumphs over evil. You guys are familiar with the concept."

Raphael nodded. "What's the actual transplant gonna involve? You've probably already told Mikey, but I'm curious too."

"It's administered intravenously, and it should be completely painless."

"So if it goes well, nothing's gonna hurt him?"

"There is always the risk of side effects and complications. We're going to keep your brother under close observation to make sure he isn't developing anything like that."

"And you need to keep taking healthy cells from me too?" Raph asked.

"For the next couple of weeks, yes, while we're still growing new cultures."

The red-masked turtle shot Michelangelo a grin. "Who'd have thought _I'd_ be the one to save your shell?"

"I knew this was gonna go to your head," Mike complained. "Beck's waiting for me downstairs. Is it okay if I take off?"

Caleb nodded. "As long as you don't _literally_ take off."

The orange-masked turtle chuckled. "Dude, you have no idea how close to the truth you are."

Donatello noticed Mike getting up from where he was sitting, and he joined the youngest turtle as he left the room.

"I don't need anything else from you right now either, Raphael. We can get you out of here too," Caleb told him.

He hesitated, glancing toward the door and then back at Caleb. "I don't know that I'm ready to go yet."

"If you have other questions, now's a good time to ask," the man replied.

Raphael shook his head. "This whole thing is just weird to me. How'd I end up being the best match for making these iPs cells? Are you sure Mikey's system is gonna accept mine? I'm really worried about the bottom dropping out and him getting worse."

"Your fears are founded, Raphael. This goes against the natural order of DNA. But if it makes you feel any better, you're_ already _defying the laws of nature by existing. Biology teaches us that mutations are harmful in almost every single case, with a margin for success that's so small it's hardly conceivable. Yet here you are, living, breathing, and defiantly healthy against incredible odds."

"We're not all healthy," Raphael pointed out. "Our Sensei is gone, and Mike would be out the door without you too."

"And yet, how many years went by _without_ complications?"

"I guess that's true, but it sure doesn't mean much now," Raph said bitterly.

Caleb took a deep breath. "I understand that it's discouraging. But the good news is, there's still hope, Raphael."

The red-masked turtle looked at the man seriously. "Why me? What's so special about my cells, Caleb?"

The doctor shifted awkwardly, and looked over his shoulder at Luke and Marcus. "It's a matter of several factors."

Raphael's gaze hardened. "What aren't you telling me? I _know_ there's something."

"I don't know if...um..." Caleb's discomfort was obvious.

"I know I sound a little like a hot head sometimes, but I'm really not that bad with my friends. What are you not supposed to tell me?"

Surprise registered in Caleb's eyes before he swallowed to contain it. "It isn't that I'm not allowed to say it; I'm just not sure if I should be the one doing this."

"We're all relying on you now, aren't we? Even if it's bad, I need to hear it. With me it's like pulling off a band-aid: I'd rather do it quick."

Caleb smiled. "I never liked doing it that way, but I'll do my best. Out of all four of you, your cells are the healthiest."

Raphael cocked his head. "What do you mean the healthiest? Is something wrong with Leo and Donny?"

Caleb scooted his chair closer to the bed Raphael was propped up in, filling up the space he'd created between them. "You know that we took several samples from all of you, including cells from the lungs. In your brothers' cases we found more of the cells possessing the abnormality that causes them to eventually mutate spontaneously."

"Are you telling me _they're_ sick too?" he whispered fiercely.

"No, that isn't what I'm saying. The abnormality still appears to be in an early stage, meaning it could be years before the condition became acute in them the way it did with your father and Michelangelo."

"But Donny said that _all _of us have this thing. How could I be the only one to luck out?"

"You have the abnormal gene too, Raphael, but your cells contained the lowest occurrence of them. That's why we consider them the healthiest."

Raphael was silent for several seconds. "Do Don and Leo know?"

He nodded.

"What about everyone else?"

"That's at their discretion, Raphael. I'm sure it was all going to come out, it was simply a matter of timing. I don't think your brothers wanted to fuel any further discouragement."

The red-masked turtle braced a hand against his forehead, closing his eyes as new fear overtook him. Finally, he looked at Caleb again. "Do you think this is going to work?"

The older man held his eye contact, but didn't speak right away. "In theory," he said at last. "I want to give you some certainty, Raphael, but I can't. The only thing I can assure you of is that we're doing everything we can."

Raphael took a shuddering breath. "Have you...do you know if...I mean, we gotta know what we're up against, right? I could talk to Karina. Olivia should probably get tested too."

Caleb nodded slowly. "It would be in her best interest. I don't know that I should have told you all of that, but I hope you understand your brothers weren't trying to hide anything from you."

_That ain't what it feels like_, he thought inwardly.

"I'm sorry. I know this is difficult to hear," Caleb said quietly.

Raphael focused on the man once more. "Don't apologize to me, Caleb. We're the ones who've been making this harder than it should have been, and I'm the worst offender. We're all pretty protective when it comes to Liv, but that's not a good enough excuse.

"You _proved_ that you were trustworthy before you ever stepped foot on this mountain, but I couldn't let that be good enough. It's just being this helpless…I don't know. I think part of me had a harder time with trusting you because I _couldn't _keep anyone safe on my own. I'm sorry. I hope you realize we're all on board with you now. I appreciate you being honest with me, I really do." The red-masked turtle extended a hand toward him, and the man accepted it.

Caleb gave him a small smile. "It feels good to hear, Raphael."

* * *

><p>The red-masked turtle was quiet for the remaining portion of the day. Extra pain meds had been offered; he suspected because the docs assumed his silence equaled suffering. He didn't want them. Raphael wanted to be left alone to process things. He did his best not to be cold toward Karina, while making it clear that he wanted a little space. But when Leonardo came to him shortly after the dinner that he couldn't stomach, he was actually relieved.<p>

"Raph?" His brother's tone was tense, as if he half-expected Raphael to bite his head off for approaching him. "What's going on?"

"You should have told me," he replied shortly.

"Told you what?"

"I talked to Caleb today. He was honest with me, more honest than you guys have been," he said sullenly. Raphael was seriously frustrated with his lack of mobility. He wanted to pace or run, but he couldn't do anything but sit there. "He told me about why they're using _my_ cells."

"Raph, Don and I aren't sick," Leo said.

"But you're gonna be, aren't you? We're all like some freakin' time bomb waiting to explode. Did you tell _anybody_? Do your girls know?"

"I spoke with Calley, but I don't know if Don told Jen."

"Why the shell didn't you tell _me?"_

"Is this such a big mystery, Raph? Aren't we dealing with enough as it is, without chasing down more things to worry about? We're not having issues yet."

"You even added the 'yet'," Raphael countered.

"Please don't be angry. We weren't going to keep it from you, and we didn't tell the docs to hide it either. Don and I didn't want to dump this on everyone at once. You understand that, don't you?"

"_I'm_ not everyone!" he said sharply. "I'm your brother."

"Yes, you are," Leo said softly. "I'm sorry. It was going to come out soon. Put yourself in my position, Raph. Do you want to be the one to head up that family meeting?"

"Promise me that you're not hiding anything else."

"We're not, Raph. Please believe me. We didn't want to add to the existing burden."

"I get that, Leo, but I shouldn't have had to hear it from Caleb."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bro," he repeated, dropping to his knees by the bed. "Is this why you've been down today?"

"How was I supposed to act? Should I have been happy, relieved? No, when someone tells you that your brothers' days are numbered, I think you're allowed to get upset."

Leonardo nodded mutely.

"I guess...maybe retreating isn't the right thing to do though," Raphael said evenly. "What with Mikey getting the first treatment tomorrow. We ought to be together, huh?"

"I think it would be better," Leonardo said. "Are you up to it?"

Raphael nodded. "Yeah, I s'pose. We're nothing if we're not a family, right?"

Leonardo smiled faintly. "That's one way of saying it."

The red-masked turtle let out a tremendous sigh. "You wanna help me get out of this room?"

"Sure, Raph."

"Aren't you getting tired of hauling my shell around yet?"

Leo waved him off. "You'd do the same for us."

"Yeah, but I probably wouldn't be as nice as you guys."

Leonardo laughed. "That's probably true. I'll call Don to give me a hand. We're not getting sick of helping you, Raph. If we can't be there for each other, we've got no business calling ourselves brothers."


	75. Transplant

***Wow...25 chapters to go. It's difficult to believe we've come so far. I'm hard at work on Watchmen, which is proving to be the most evil fic I've written thus far...and I think that's saying a lot. You'll be pretty happy I'm already working on it behind the scenes when we get to the end of Refuge.**

* * *

><p>The beginning of the transplant was somewhat anticlimactic for Michelangelo. He'd known that it wasn't going to be like undergoing an actual surgery, but after all the research and work that had been going on in the background, it was strange for the procedure to feel so easy. He'd been on the IV for a little over two hours, and according to Caleb, he was about halfway through the process.<p>

The orange-masked turtle was actually feeling a little bored. Others had been coming and going, but no one stayed for a long period of time. Mike had the sense that no one wanted to make him feel like a fish inside an aquarium. One of the doctors always stayed put inside the Lab, while everyone else filtered in and out at random.

Mike heard the door opening, and grinned when he saw Becky come in.

"Hey, Mikey," she said quietly.

"Hi, Beck, c'mon in here. Where've you been?"

"Hanging around. I don't want to get in anyone's way, or keep you from resting. Are you doing okay?"

He nodded. "A little sick to my stomach, but the docs said that could happen."

Mike gazed at the young woman probingly. Rebecca looked like she had better color today. She'd lost weight over the last month, and had already needed the IV a number of times to get nutrients.

She dropped into the available chair beside him, and reached for his hand. "Aren't you getting bored laying here?" Becky asked knowingly.

"I was, until you got here. I guess it's too much to ask for a sick turtle to get a little in-house entertainment. The docs are working their tails off to save my life, but forget about getting me a TV," he joked, intentionally raising his voice so that Marcus would hear him.

The man shook his head. "Sorry we didn't put that in our notes somewhere. I'll get on that, stat."

Michelangelo winked at the man. "Make sure you do, Marc," he cracked, but then looked at the young woman. "You're more interesting than some TV show anyway."

Rebecca chuckled. "Well, thanks, Mike. Does that mean you want a story time?"

He grinned. "Have you got something good on deck?"

"What are you in the mood for?"

"Surprise me."

"Hm," she said thoughtfully. "Did I ever tell you about my favorite Thanksgiving in the Congo?"

He shook his head. "Seeing as how we've got about a month to go until Thanksgiving, it sounds appropriate."

"I was eight years old. We were supposed to be leaving the country on a short furlough to the United States," she said. "We were going to catch our flight out of Kinshasa, but the plane never made it to the city. My Mom normally made plans for us to celebrate Thanksgiving in the rainforest _months_ in advance. Even though we were living in a foreign country, she wanted to give my sister and me an injection of the true American traditions.

"But since we were supposed to be in America over the holiday, she hadn't made any of those preparations, or had things shipped into the country. It was disappointing because I always looked forward to those special times of year when we could celebrate in a more 'extravagant' fashion. I remember getting a couple of tears when I found out we weren't getting our flight, and there was nothing left to do but head back to the rainforest.

"My mom pulled me aside, and I figured I was in for a lecture about being grateful for what we had. I thought she was going to tell me not to complain, but all she did was try to encourage me. 'Things don't always work out the way we've planned,' she said, 'but that doesn't mean they have to be bad. Some of the greatest opportunities in your life will be born from the ashes of your greatest disappointments.'

"We got on the ferry to go home. It was going to be one of those several-hour cruises down the river, and the boat was packed. There were so many people that you could hardly move or breathe without hitting someone. It had been the last boat, which meant the trip carried into the overnight hours. The ferry stopped at another port for the night, and we got as much sleep as we could.

"My mom woke me up before dawn, and said she'd decided we were having Thanksgiving for breakfast. The morning market was getting ready to open in the city, and she brought me along to help pick things out. We found a few fishermen who'd hit a stroke of good luck the day before, with some of the nicest fish I'd ever seen in a market. I remember my mom hemming and hawing over those fish like it was a huge decision, and wondering why she didn't pick something.

"My mom shocked the vendors _and_ me when she proclaimed that she wanted their entire supply. I was still really confused as she acquired the assistance of a young man in getting the catch back to the ferry. But it didn't end there. We stopped by other stalls along the way, and she cleaned them out in a similar fashion, using the money she'd originally set aside for buying things stateside when we touched down. Needless to say, the currency went a lot further in the DRC than it could have in the US.

"We continued to head in the direction of the Congo River, and the others who'd been traveling on the boat with us began to take notice of the two of us with all the food." Rebecca smiled at the memory. "It was amazing. For a few moments I thought there was going to be chaos. I braced myself for being trampled and crushed underfoot as people would surge forward to get to the food. There were people on that ferry who hadn't had a decent meal in weeks, and they were desperate."

"So what happened?"

Becky shook her head. "I can't explain it, Mike. My mom addressed all of them calmly - I don't know how they heard her - and they settled down. She had them sit down in groups, and recruited more people to help cook and prepare the meal for everyone. I never thought there would be enough food to feed all those people, but somehow, there was."

She laughed suddenly. "My parents explained the tradition of Thanksgiving to the natives, and all of them were so interested. I think they would have gladly adopted _any_ holiday that involved being fed that well. The festive atmosphere persisted through the rest of the trip down river. Whereas people had been stony and silent, now they were downright enthusiastic and kind to each other. It was one of the most powerful experiences I ever had in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and I never forgot it."

Mike nodded. "That's really cool, Becky. It must make all other Thanksgivings pale in comparison."

"I've certainly never had one with a greater emotional roller coaster, that's for sure."

"So should I ask Karina to get fish on the menu for next month?"

Rebecca giggled. "I'm not really picky about _what _I eat right now, Mikey, as long as I can hold it down."

Michelangelo watched as her soft expression changed into a more serious one while she looked at the IV unit that was providing the transplant. "This isn't so bad, right?" He offered her a half grin.

"It doesn't seem to be," she agreed.

"You got any more stories rolling around in that pretty head of yours?"

"Uh uh, Mike, it's _your_ turn to tell. Do you have any good ones?"

"There could be _some _story interesting enough to share," he replied impishly.

* * *

><p>Mike wasn't happy about being forced to stay in the Lab after the treatment had completed, but he wasn't surprised either. He wanted to be in his own bed, but he kept his mouth shut and didn't complain when he found out the docs were holding him in custody. The orange-masked turtle felt nervous about the possibility of complications, but none of the geniuses were panicking, so he was trying to relax too.<p>

Caleb had explained to him that the transplants would take place over a four-month period, further cementing the fact that their stay at Lotus Salvus was going to be an extended one.

_Well...I already knew we were gonna be here for awhile. I wonder how things are back in the city. I wonder if there's anything left of our old home._

Mike sighed anxiously. He'd avoided thinking about New York City as much as possible, but for some reason concern was rising anew tonight. He turned his head to look at Luke sitting behind the desk, hoping to get encouragement of some kind.

"Hey, Doc? Have you heard anything about the city lately?"

The blond man wheeled around in his chair. "They're still experiencing little aftershocks, much smaller than the original quake. The bridges and tunnels that weren't badly damaged are opening back up. The historic areas were some of the hardest hit. There were several buildings destroyed - brick front, like our loft was."

"What about down by the Civic Center?"

"About half the block is gone. The soil composition was just too unstable to support the weight of the structures after it was compromised by the tremors."

"Did many people die?"

Luke looked away. "There have been roughly 1700 deaths, overall."

Michelangelo let the number hang in the air, silently pondering how many families were affected by the deaths.

"Are you homesick?" Luke asked.

"Kind of, but just in the sense that I want to make sure I see the city again. There's a part of me that feels like I'm not going to get the chance."

Luke scooted his chair over to the bedside. "Because you're wondering if you're going to make it at all?"

"Nothing's for sure, right? I try not to worry about things, but sometimes it still comes up, Doc, no matter how hard I fight it."

"It still bugs you that we won't give your chances in a percentage, doesn't it?"

"There's being positive, and then there's fooling yourself. I don't wanna fall in the second category."

Luke grimaced. "You know it's not possible for us to give you something that we don't _have_, Mike. Are you feeling unsure about the transplant you just had?"

The turtle shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm still scared over how everything's going to turn out. I'm glad it's started, but there's a long way to go. I don't need you to make me feel better about it, Doc, I'm just being honest. I'm not brave all the time."

The man ducked his head. "No one is, Mike. I want to support you however I can, and that means I _want_ to make you feel better somehow."

Mike stared vacantly at the ceiling overhead until the man brushed his shoulder.

"What are you thinking, Mike?"

"About that first night with you, when we didn't know if Donny was gonna make it or not."

Luke nodded. "That was a rough night."

"You walked in, and you were instantly in control."

The man laughed. "On the outside maybe. Inside, I was freaking out and wondering how I was going to do anything but hasten the death of a kid who was already dying."

Mike rolled over to face Luke. "You were amazing. I remember watching how calm you were, and thinking you had to be from another planet."

Luke shook his head. "One of the best things my parents ever taught me was the benefit of _not _panicking. I think that was part of the reason I was such a good fit with the ER."

"You took a real chance on us, Doc. We could have been flesh-eating monsters for all you knew."

Luke grinned. "I gave April the benefit of the doubt. I kind of figured she wasn't setting me up to get eaten alive."

Mike looked past the man at the computer screen he'd been monitoring. He knew that Luke had been watching his vital statistics that were being transmitted from the implanted homing beacon of Donatello's design.

"What are you watching for over there, Doc?"

"I've just observing the normal things. Your heart rate, blood pressure, the works. We're not just being overprotective, you know. If you'd had a normal stem cell transplant in a hospital, they would have kept you too."

"Because a lot of things can go wrong," Mike filled in.

Luke shrugged. "That's nothing new for us, is it?"

Mike turned his head as he picked up footsteps echoing faintly in the stairwell, and then through the hall. A bronze-haired woman appeared in the doorway, and Katherine emerged into the Lab with a blanket-wrapped Reina.

"Someone wanted to say good night to a couple of her favorite people," Kat said.

Luke smiled as he took the baby from her, and kissed Reina's forehead.

"Dada!"

"You can say it, Reina," Kat encouraged her. "Say 'daddy.'"

"Dadee!"

Luke cuddled the little girl close against his chest, as if he had no plans of letting her go anytime soon.

"She's been trying to repeat after me all day," the woman remarked. "It's been pretty funny."

The man seemed to enjoy the way Reina rested her head against his shoulder. "She's a sleepy girl."

"She needs a bottle and night night," Katherine replied.

"Boddle?"

"That's right, sweetie," Luke told the baby. "Do you want to see your Uncle Mikey?"

The orange-masked turtle grinned. It was only an honorary title as far as Reina was concerned, but he, Leo, and Donny accepted it with pride. He loved the way Reina squealed as Luke handed the baby over to him. The little's girls hands patted his cheeks, immediately gravitating to the familiar surface of his skin.

"You gonna be a good girl and sleep nice for Mommy?" Mike asked seriously. "Maybe your Daddy will actually let me play with you tomorrow."

"Dadee!"

Her giggle made him want to talk to her more, but he willingly released the baby back to Katherine after a minute or so.

"Now say 'bye bye,' Reina," Kat told her.

The baby waved a hand over Katherine's shoulder. "Buh bye."

"Good girl, Reina. You're so smart." Katherine cooed at the baby as she left the room.

Mike fixed Luke with a smile. "You'd never guess Kat could kick your tail faster than you can blink."

Luke nodded seriously. "She can still dish it out, believe me. But she really loves being a mom. I can't wait to see you with a kid of your own, Mike."

The turtle relaxed against his pillow. Everyone preferred to talk to him in the sense that he was going to live, and it was what he wanted to believe with all of his heart too. "I'm excited too, Doc. Feels like I've been waiting my whole life for this, or at least I was wishing for it, even when we figured it was impossible. Sometimes I'm glad the brainiacs aren't right about _everything_."


	76. Private Demons

_The lightning flashed across the sky in the longest bolt the turtle had ever witnessed. The brilliance almost turned night to day for an instant, giving him an unpleasant view of the dark-clad shadows that nearly surrounded them. The wind kicked up so forcefully behind his back, it seemed to be siding with the enemies that were challenging him and his brothers to a never-ending battle. Nothing seemed to _hurt_ their opponents. Whenever he or one of his brothers knocked one down or were forced to run them through, the shadows continued to relentlessly attack, like they didn't even feel the blows._

_The turtles weren't so lucky. He could read it in his brothers' eyes whenever they were backed up close enough for him to actually make them out. They were all getting tired, and their assailants were displaying no sign of faltering. A heavy hand on his shoulder started to spin him around, and the turtle nearly lashed out at his assailant by instinct alone._

_He took a deep breath when he realized that it was one of his younger brothers, and the turtle was trying hard to tell him something. He couldn't hear his brother's speech for some reason, and had to focus hard on his moving mouth to distinguish the word he appeared to be repeating._

_Retreat._

Yes, retreat, _he told himself. _While we still have a chance.

_The thunder rolled overhead as he whipped back around, just in time to duck a curved blade. He didn't even bother wasting the energy to try and parry it. There was no time left for defense. The distance from their rooftop to the next one looked impossibly far, but there was nothing left for them except to try and run for it._

_On a whim he reached for his grappling gun, and fired the hook toward the building across from them. He nodded at his brothers while they covered him, and made what felt like a suicidal leap. Or it _would _have been a suicidal leap, without the strong cable to secure him to the next rooftop. He'd taken the jump first just to make sure that it could be done, but when he turned around to find his brothers, he couldn't see them._

Shell. Shell, where are you, guys? C'mon, you've got to get out of there.

_He squinted through the rain that had started downpouring in the blink of an eye, frozen in that position as if his legs had locked up underneath him. The turtle waited uncomfortably on the ledge, anxiety growing for every second that he didn't see his brothers. Another unnaturally bright bolt of lightning split the sky overhead, revealing the desperate picture of one of his brothers being held aloft by his throat._

_Before a word could even leap to his lips, the dark assailant handling the limp figure hurled him over the edge of the building. The turtle nearly took a pointless nose-dive off the roof upon which _he_ was perched, in the hopeless dream of snagging something with his grappling hook and managing to catch his falling brother before he hit the ground._

_Even as his feet were about to leave the ledge, black shapes momentarily blotted out his vision as his unassailable enemies sprouted wings. He took a startled step backward, stumbling over his own two feet before landing on his side. In a flash the hellish creatures had landed on his roof-top, touching down with a force that made the entire building feel like it was shaking. The turtle held his breath as he wondered if the building would collapse underneath them, and cringed as the demons hurled his two remaining younger brothers down in front of him._

_He didn't want to look, couldn't stand to see the life drained out of them. One of the creatures inexplicably rescued him from the center of the circle, only to draw a blade on him. His own weapons were non-existent - they'd disappeared without any explanation__._

_"_It does not suit you to allow your enemies to live_," the taunting voice reminded him._

The blue-masked turtle came awake so violently that he wrestled over the side of the bed with a cry. He hovered on his knees on the hard-wood floor, panting heavily like he'd been running at break-neck speed.

"Leo."

The soft voice made shame wash over him like a flood, and he hurried to pick himself up.

"Leo," Calley repeated. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said stiffly. "It was an accident. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Were you dreaming?"

"I got startled."

"You always say that it isn't safe to surprise a ninja." Calley was trying to sound light, testing how he would respond.

"It isn't," he replied, rubbing a hand across his tired eyes. He couldn't muster a smile in return.

"Can I do something for you?"

"No," he answered. "I just need some air." _And I'd prefer to get it alone, _he added inwardly. _Don't push it, Calley. Please stay here._

The blond woman gazed at him closely for a couple of seconds, and sank back down timidly. "Okay. You know where I am."

The blue-masked turtle strode out of the room, but he had the presence of mind to walk more quietly through the hall, lest he wake up someone else. Frustration burned in the pit of his stomach as he silently trotted downstairs through the darkened Great Room, and let himself outside.

Leonardo leaned against the porch railing wearily, and rested his head against the soft sanded surface. It was pointless to even look at the amazing night sky that was stretched out above him.

The dreams had persisted over the last few months, though their frequency seemed to have decreased. While the number of dreams was dwindling, the severity of the hopeless scenarios had only increased, along with the cold irrational reality that the visions presented.

_The Akiudo were never invincible, and they don't even _exist _anymore. They were never that strong when the organization was intact._

Nothing bothered him more than Takashi's incessant need to address him directly, and remind him of the question Leonardo still hadn't answered for himself.

_When our enemies have proven their deadly intentions time and time again, where do we draw the line? Mike didn't take the time to make sure Daichi was dead. Raph didn't _mean_ to kill Yukiko, and I left Takashi for the police to deal with. We had an honorable duel. I could have killed him. I could have. Maybe then I wouldn't be haunted by these ghosts that are determined to make me question the decision I made._

Leonardo raised his head, drinking in the cold night air deeply.

_What else could I have done? We can't get in the habit of killing everyone who raises a hand against us. But when people already know too much, like that stupid Bounty Hunter..._

He rammed his fist into the railing at the thought of Blackford, who'd given the Akiudo the keys they had needed to get to the turtles to begin with.

_It does not suit you to allow your enemies to live._

Takashi had challenged him with that statement after Leonardo had been taken captive by the Akiudo, speaking of the Bounty Hunter. Despite the sense of honor that had been instilled inside him from the time he was a child, part of the blue-masked turtle wanted to agree with Takashi's assessment.

_It was risky of us to let the police deal with Blackford when he knew so much about us. Idiotic to spare so many men over the years who could have been our undoing._

The sound of the screen door had Leonardo turning, fixing on the figure of his purple-masked brother.

"Hey, Leo," Donatello said quietly.

Leonardo inhaled sharply to collect himself out of the dishonorable ramblings. "Hey, Bro. What are you doing up?"

"I just got off 'Mikey' duty. What's your excuse?"

Leonardo huffed softly under his breath and looked away from Donatello. "I need to breathe."

Donny rested his arms on the porch railing beside him. "Sounds like some angry air you're taking in."

"I don't really want to talk, Don."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"Not forever, no. Right now, yes." Leonardo fought for an even tone, trying hard not to come across as cold.

Donatello hesitated, but then released his grip on the railing. "All right. I'm here if you need me."

Leonardo nodded gratefully as his brother backed toward the door.

_I don't _think_ that was too harsh. He didn't act like I hurt his feelings at least. Shell, I don't want to talk about this with _anyone_. I know that we did the right thing with the Akiudo, and that justice was served. I don't get why I have this nagging feeling that something isn't finished. We were never meant to be the ones standing in the place of judgment on people, meting out punishment for their crimes. Our job is to _stop_ them, and let the law deal with them how they see fit. _

_I've never been this caught up in turmoil over turning someone in to the police before. Why am I letting Takashi do this to me? He can't even hurt anyone from where he is now._

Leonardo let the silent statement linger in the air, finally taking a couple of steps away from the railing to glance overhead at the innumerable stars that filled the night sky. _There should be peace, _he realized. _I should have some sense of finality, and I don't. It doesn't make any sense._

The blue-masked turtle lowered his frame to sit on one of the steps, and remained quiet for a while. He heard the wind kicking up in the trees, followed by a distant howl that made him sit up straighter. _Coyotes? I know they howl sometimes. We haven't seen any of the real wildlife yet, but that doesn't mean it isn't out there._

Leonardo shook his head. _That's one of the hardest parts about the lives we lead. We can see the signs of our enemies or sometimes hear them around the bend, but there's no telling when a strike is going to come. Raph and I weren't looking for the Akiudo that first night we met. We stumbled onto them. It just happened. Now after an amazing climax that was our last opportunity to face them in battle, I'm still on edge, expecting the bogey man to be hiding around the corner._

As long as it had taken him to sit down, Leonardo suddenly rose with a jerk. _I can't let this get the better of me. We've dealt with them, we freed the slaves, and the Akiudo has been disbanded. That's the end of it. These dreams are nothing_ but _dreams, my own subconscious trying to tell me that nothing I do is good enough. Well, I've had it._

Leonardo turned to leave the nocturnal life to its playground, while he padded back upstairs to bed. Calley was wide awake and waiting for him, but she didn't ask questions as he rolled into bed.

"Sorry for keeping you up," he apologized. "I'm okay, Calley. I really am."

"It's all right if you're_ not_, Leo. You don't have to pretend in order to preserve your honor in my eyes or anyone else's."

He nodded. "I know. It's funny how some chapters take longer to close than others, but I'm declaring that this one is officially finished," he said vaguely.

Leonardo reached out toward her, and she accepted his embrace uncertainly.

"It's only memories mixed with my imagination, Calley. Neither of those things have the power to kill me."

She shook her head. "Maybe not, but they still have the power to _affect_ you," Calley said pointedly. "I should know, particularly where that gang is concerned."

The blue-masked turtle sighed. "You're right, Calley. I just can't help feeling like I may be feeding into it by brooding about it. I really don't want to talk about them anymore tonight, if that's all right with you," he said cautiously.

"Its fine, Leo. I know where you live if I need to get something out of you," she finished lightly to take the edge off the situation.

Leonardo felt a sense of relief. "Thank you. Let's try and get some sleep before the sun comes up."


	77. Visitors

The still of the early morning hours was broken by a barking dog. It was a sound that Donatello was accustomed to hearing often, but this time it struck him as strange. The bark was forceful and demanding, taking a more vicious tone than the turtle had ever heard one of the border collies use. Though he'd been lying drowsily with his wife, he was wide awake in an instant.

Donatello got to his feet and moved toward the screen door that led to the second-level deck. They'd been leaving the door open on some of the warmer nights. A snarl from the ground got his attention. _I've never heard those dogs fight before. I hope they're just playing._

An alarmed shout that sounded like Caleb's voice had the turtle wrestling with the door knob to get outside. It was still dark, and he had to squint to see through the faint light that spilled over the land behind the house from the porch. As he searched for some sign of the man or the canines, he heard a howl come from nearby that made time stand still. In the span of seconds that it took him to react, the howl was being answered from further away.

The way he dashed back into the house to snatch his bo from the corner in which it was resting woke Jenna up.

"Don? What are you doing?"

"I think there's something wrong down there. Stay here, Jen, and don't go outside!"

He didn't hear her reply, because he was already moving. The purple-masked turtle took a short running leap and vaulted off the deck. The blind jump in the darkness was a bit unnerving, but he have time to think about it. Donatello opened up out of the flip in time to land on his feet, and sprinted toward the treeline that he _thought_ was the source of the commotion with the dogs.

A rapid scan of the surroundings didn't reveal Molly or Noah, but he quickly latched on to the familiar form of Caleb, who had a flashlight in one hand, and part of a broken tree branch in the other. The man was wildly swinging at two creatures that were advancing toward him, and Don took a wild guess that they _weren't_ the border collies.

The turtle expected to find coyotes that were no larger than the dogs, so he was stunned to see what looked like full grown _wolves_.

_They're not supposed to be here! _He snapped out of surprise in an instant. Now wasn't the time to argue with the logic of the wolves' existence.

"Caleb, drop the light and use both hands with the branch!" he ordered.

The man's head jerked in his direction as he joined him, and it was the wrong moment to look away from the wolves. One of them lunged toward Caleb, and Donatello's feet left the ground in a split second. The turtle used his bo to close the distance between himself and the animal, striking the wolf across the skull as it snapped dangerously close to Caleb's neck.

He spun with his staff in hand, but the other wolf had ducked out of immediate reach. The animal stood its ground with a low growl as Donatello kept his bo extended, in case the wolf was going to charge.

"Caleb, get behind me," he urged. _I don't want him to run - that will only induce more predatory behavior. Darn it, where are Molly and Noah?_

As he focused on the aggressive wolf in front of him, he heard the man's breathing quicken. "Its okay, Caleb." Donatello tried to sound reassuring. "I've got him."

"No, Donatello, it's..."

The purple-masked turtle sensed the real reason for Caleb's growing nerves as he felt like the trees were beginning to close in on them. "How many, Caleb?" He was afraid to look away from the nearest threat.

"Um...maybe...I don't know," he faltered. "At least seven."

"Do you still have that branch?"

"Yes."

"Use both hands," he told him again. "Turn around _slowly, _and put your back against mine. Stay on your feet and protect your throat."

"They shouldn't be attacking us," Caleb murmured.

"But it looks like they want to. Do you see any rocks?"

"I already tried rocks to scare off the first two. They weren't impressed."

Donatello's eyes flicked to the unmoving wolf he'd already struck, and back on the bristling animal in front of him. The stand-off felt like it had been going on forever. One of the wolves from the outside circle was the first to move; Don noticed the animal out of the corner of his eye, with sizeable canines fully exposed.

When he was distracted by the large male to his right, the creature in front of him lunged toward the turtle. Donatello sensed the wind of the wolf's approach and lashed out a muscled leg to catch the animal squarely in the chest. He heard the wolf's whine as he cast it backwards several feet, but he didn't have a chance to see if it could rise.

Donatello's head turned right and left to face the rest of the oncoming pack. It looked like at least ten heads were bearing down on them, and the animals weren't interested in taking turns attacking. He heard the crack of Caleb's makeshift weapon, but he couldn't see what the man was doing. It was physically impossible to face forward _and_ backward at the same time.

Don used his bo to maintain a slight distance from the animals, striking out with powerful blows when they ventured in too closely. He didn't want to kill the wolves unnecessarily. Confusion reigned in his mind as he did his best to beat the animals back from Caleb and himself. A particularly loud snarl caught his ear from behind, and he looked back to see Caleb's branch in the mouth of the largest wolf, whose grey hair was practically standing on end.

The turtle leaped toward the man as the wolf snapped the branch. Donatello swung his bo hard, lashing out at what he assumed was the alpha male to separate him from Caleb. He wasn't sure if the blow had fractured the wolf's skull, but he hoped that taking down the leader would be enough incentive for the others to retreat. As he reached out to steady Caleb on his feet, it was clear that wasn't going to be the case. The wolves were now one in their combined attack, and it was all Donatello could do to create a small barrier the animals couldn't cross.

The man was all but defenseless, and Donny had no choice but to expose his flank as he pounded another that was trying to capture Caleb's throat. He felt teeth close on his ankle from behind, threatening to drag him down. Heedless of the pain, he continued focusing on the wolves trying to overwhelm Caleb, and keeping his legs under him. There was a moment of panic when he saw the man hit the ground, and he felt another set of teeth glance across his _own_ thigh.

Before he had a chance to react he heard a startled yelp as one of the wolves behind him flew head over tail, and he saw his older brother lashing out at the animal that still had him by the ankle. Relief surged as the blue-masked turtle caught him by the arm.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Don shot back through gritted teeth. "I'm great."

He shifted the weight off his bleeding ankle and maintained a ready stance as Leonardo bulled forward against the wolf that was on top of Caleb. Donatello was back inside a rhythm of raining blows on the persistent wolves as his brother grabbed for a piece of Caleb's branch, which now was acting more like a club. The purple-masked turtle's eyes narrowed at the next animal that tried to go for his throat, and he caught the wolf out of a mid-air leap. He used his bo to fling the creature over his shoulder, grunting with exertion over the wolf's weight. It almost felt like he'd thrown an adult human.

Donatello heard the metallic sound of a sword being drawn, followed by a cry from his oldest brother as he drove his blade through one of the wolves. He jerked his head around in time to see Leonardo pulling his blade out of the alpha male. The other wolves came to a dramatic halt, and the two turtles remained tense back-to-back, with weapons ready. Leonardo still had the club in one hand, but he kept a katana raised now as well.

They waited, breath heaving slightly from the exercise and adrenaline that had been surging. On some hidden signal, the wolves that were still standing or limping retreated into the trees, and Donatello exhaled deeply.

"Oh shell." Leonardo's proclamation filled the silence the wolves left behind, as he dropped to the earth beside the man. "Caleb, please be all right."

Donatello hurried over, ignoring the pain of his ankle.

"It isn't lethal, at least, not yet." The man sounded surprisingly calm. "That one took a good chunk out of my shoulder, but that wasn't going to satisfy him." He glanced at the large grey wolf Leonardo had impaled and shook his head. "It's a pity, but it wasn't going to stop until it took my head off."

Leonardo nodded gravely. "I didn't want to kill it, but I wasn't going to let it kill_ you _either." He nudged the form of the prone wolf, staring at it.

Caleb took a shuddering breath as Donatello examined him more closely. He found several simple lacerations on the man, but nothing was bleeding as badly as his left shoulder.

"I think your shoulder_ is _the worst of it," Donatello affirmed. "Leo, can you help him get to the house?"

As the blue-masked turtle supported him from the side, Caleb actually stood on his own feet.

"What blood type are you?" Don asked.

"A+."

The purple-masked turtle nodded. "No problem. You and Greg match up, so if we need to pull a pint from him, that's what we'll do." He glanced at Leonardo as he felt his brother studying him.

"Are_ you _okay?" Leonardo asked. "I know they had their teeth on you."

Donatello flexed both legs experimentally. "My thigh is superficial - that wolf didn't get a grip on me. The other one twisted my ankle, feels like his teeth punctured it pretty deeply, but it's not life threatening. You got here at the right time, Leo."

The blue-masked turtle shook his head in frustration. "Jen came and got me, then I went the wrong direction. I had to backtrack, but it wasn't hard to find you after the entire pack jumped in."

A chorus of shouts greeted them from the direction of the house, and Donatello waved at the men as they continued in that direction. "We're over here! Caleb's hurt - we need help!" he called.

The sight of Greg with his service weapon drawn and Luke toting a baseball bat was _almost_ enough to make Donatello laugh.

"Is everyone in one piece?" Luke was characteristically in control. "What happened out here?"

Donatello lit the display on his watch, and was shocked to realize that the entire attack had lasted less than five minutes from start to finish. "There were wolves," he explained. "Caleb's shoulder needs attention, and he's got some chest lacerations too."

"And _Donny_ had two wolves trying to take him down by the legs," Leonardo added.

"My left leg was barely punctured," Don said quickly. "My ankle could definitely take some stitches. You can add it to the 'to do' list."

"I killed a wolf that was wearing a collar of some kind," Leonardo added.

"It's a radio transmitter," Caleb offered. "Some of those animals must be part of the program to reintroduce grey wolves to the Blue Ridge Mountains."

"You mean people_ put _them here?" Leo sounded incredulous.

"Can we talk about this inside?" Luke asked with the first hint of nerves. "Donny, are you sure you're okay to walk?"

The turtle nodded. "Yeah, it's fine," he insisted. "But the dogs-"

"You're not chasing them down when you're already hurt, Donny," Greg cut in. "You're going back to the house."

Luke waited until they were behind closed doors and Caleb was sitting down before continuing the line of questioning. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," the older man replied. "I let the dogs out early, and they took off. They headed for the trees, and I figured they were chasing a raccoon off the property. The next thing I knew, they were barking up a storm like something was wrong. I didn't see it happen, so I don't know if they attacked the wolves for infringing on the property, or if the wolves started it. There were only two wolves to start, but then there were more..."

"Twelve total," Donny filled in. "But _where _are the dogs?"

No one answered.

"It doesn't make sense," Caleb said finally. "Wolves are shy of humans. They don't attack people this way. There are so few recorded cases..."

"But they did," Leonardo said evenly. "Why?"

Caleb shook his head. "Familiarity breeds contempt. When wolves lose their fear of humans, they're more likely to attack. If some of these animals were part of the original released group, they were probably in captivity for awhile first. Anything from a tolerance for humans to a perceived threat on their territory by the dogs could have set them off. No one's been in this house for months. The wolves could have easily taken up residence in the vicinity. But this is highly unusual behavior for them."

As Donatello limped inside, he suddenly felt heavier. He cast a glance through the window at the empty forest, and was disappointed by the silence. _What I wouldn't give to hear some barking right now._


	78. Return

Raphael stared at his purple-masked brother bleakly. He hated seeing Donatello upset, particularly when there wasn't anything he could do about it. He was relieved that no one had been hurt worse; Don was walking fine with a small limp, and the situation with Caleb was under control. Right now he was waiting along with his two younger brothers in the back sitting room for Leonardo and Greg to come back. They'd only been gone for a little over an hour, but even that seemed too long to Raphael.

_The dogs shouldn't have gotten that far. If they didn't find 'em in the area, they're probably not out there anymore. _The pessimistic thought lingered on the edge of his mind, and he tried not to envision what could have happened to Molly and Noah.

Mike was sitting on the couch next to Donatello, who had his foot propped up on the coffee table. The youngest turtle hadn't said anything, but his presence was tangible in the room. It had been almost three weeks since his first stem cell treatment, and things had gone smoothly as far as the docs could tell. The orange-masked turtle had experienced some initial weakness that had slowed him down for a few days, but the benefits appeared to outweigh the complications. Even his appetite was something he was willing to sacrifice.

Donny's excitement over the visual proof of the formation of new tissue was on par with the most excitementt Raphael had ever seen him. That had come two days ago, and they were supposed to be gearing up for the second round of the transplant before Thanksgiving. The stress of taking the next step was tempered with the joy of Victoria and Timothy returning from New York. This morning, however, the house was shaken with the attack through which his brothers had just fought.

Donatello carefully eased off of the couch. "I don't want to sit here anymore," he said quietly. "I'll be back in a little bit."

Don slowly headed through the hallway that would connect him to the Great Room. Mike's gaze tracked after him, but he let his brother go without a fuss.

"I wish I could understand some of this," Raphael stated in frustration. "Why would people want to reintroduce an animal like that where it could hurt someone, or even kill them? They _would _have killed Caleb if Don and Leo hadn't been there."

"Luke said they're supposed to be good for the environment, that they help control wildlife and all that," Mike offered. "They used to live around here anyway, before people killed them or kicked them off the land."

"There might have been a reason to do that." Raphael fumed.

"Don't think of it that way, Raph," Karina called from the doorway. "Wolves aren't man killers - they don't normally behave that way. This was a pretty huge exception."

Raphael looked at the woman questioningly.

"They're animals, Raph. You can't blame them for acting that way, any more than you blame the leopard for attacking Tim in the Congo."

"She was protecting her kids," Raphael interjected.

"The wolves could have had a significant reason to react in their minds too."

"Whose side are you on?" The red-masked turtle was feeling irritated, and those were the first words to leap to mind.

"I'm not on their side, Tortuga. I just don't think people need to go around shooting every wolf in the wild, just like you didn't want to kill the leopard in the rainforest."

Raphael's face softened apologetically. "I don't blame the guys for not wanting to kill the wolves either. But I don't understand the point of bringing them back when-" He cut off suddenly at the sound of sharp barking.

Mike got to his feet and went to the window with Karina.

"What do you see?" Raph demanded.

"It's Leo and Heff," Mike returned. "One of the dogs is running ahead of them. I think it's Noah. Leo's carrying the other one."

Raphael tensed immediately, hoping that Donny's new best friend was still alive. Karina went out the back door to meet them, and he held his breath until he heard the footsteps on the porch. Greg held the door for the blue-masked turtle, who was carefully handling Molly in his arms.

"Leo, how is she? Is she okay?" Mike squeaked.

"I don't know," Leo replied. "We found them curled up in a gap under a fallen tree. I don't think the wolves could get to them; they were too big to fit under there. Noah is walking just fine, but he wouldn't leave Molly. I'm going to take her upstairs and see what the docs have to say. They're not vets, but they'll probably still have some clue how she's doing."

Karina brushed Raphael's arm. "I'm going to get Don, and I'll be back."

"Okay, Chica."

The most frustrating part about being injured for Raphael was being forced to sit back and wait for people to come to him. No one was intentionally leaving him behind, but the ability to do nothing more than lay around was getting nauseating. He was relieved to see Marcus exit the back stairway another hour after Leonardo and Greg had returned.

"What's going on, man?" Raphael asked. "How is everyone?"

"Okay," Marc replied. "Caleb's stable. We gave him a transfusion, just to be safe. Don's stitches are under control. His ankle's still pretty swollen, but the wolf didn't have the chance to do serious damage."

"That's good news," Mike said. "What about Molly?"

"We're not sure. We stopped the bleeding, but we don't know how much she lost out in the forest. We'll keep an eye on her and see what happens."

Raphael nodded seriously. "Is Donny really okay?"

"Yeah, it's only a matter of making him stay off his feet. You know how he is. How are _you_ feeling, Raph?"

"After everything that happened this morning, I'm surprised you even remembered my legs are messed up," he said sardonically.

Marc shook his head. "I'm not going to forget you that easily, Raph. Do you need anything? How are you handling your pain?"

He shrugged. "I'm not noticing it much today. 'Course, I could be getting used to it a little."

The man gave him a stern look. "Don't get used to it. I don't want to be forced to read your mind."

"You'll _never_ be forced to read my mind, man. If something is bugging me, you'll know it," Raphael retorted.

"You'd better believe it, Marc." Mike laughed.

* * *

><p>The entire group wasn't together until that evening in the Great Room. It had been a quiet day that had left Raphael feeling down, but the soft smile with which Donatello greeted him was encouraging.<p>

"How ya doing, Genius? How's the ankle?"

The purple-masked turtle sat down on the couch beside him, resting his wrapped ankle against the coffee table. "It's not bad, it really isn't. I can walk without any real issues."

"Take it easy, Bro. You don't need to be running around on it." Raphael peered at his brother as Donatello's smile didn't falter. "You look happy, Donny. What's going on?"

"Tim found the Battle Shell."

"No kidding! Is it in one piece?"

"Surprisingly, yes, for the most part. It ended up getting towed and impounded. Tim said it looked like someone had tried to break in, and failed. He got April to make a call on the registration, and he'll be able to pick it up tomorrow. I guess it was a random find. Tim's been actively looking for it over the last month, and ran across it by accident today."

Raphael grinned as he leaned against the couch. "That's great, Donny. That feels good to know."

His younger brother nodded. "It does, huh?"

"You still been watching the earthquake action on the computer?"

"Yep. Well, not today I haven't. Things have been quieter," he said thoughtfully.

"That's a good sign too, right?"

Donatello relaxed into another smile, and Raphael noticed him looking over toward the door. Leonardo was bringing Molly back into the room.

"Is this part of your new job description, Leo? Carrying the dog around?" Raph snickered. "Someone's encroaching on your territory, Don. What are you gonna do about it?"

"Molly's been recovering somewhat over the last few hours. We think she'll be okay; she just can't get around on her own very well," Luke provided as he entered the room.

Caleb was right behind him. "I appreciate you guys going after them." The older man sounded apologetic rather than grateful. "It was dangerous to do."

Leonardo shook his head. "Greg and I were fine, Caleb. The wolves headed for the hills. They weren't interested in another fight."

Caleb exhaled deeply as he sat down in a chair. "I don't see why they would have wanted to try again. You and Donatello were amazing."

Leo smiled casually. "That was nothing. We've seen more vicious wild animals than them, night after night on the streets of New York. The wolves were actually smarter than most of the criminals are. They only had to see one of their kind take a fatal hit before they got the heck out of there. Explain to us about these radio collars."

"Yeah, do that," Raphael requested. "Please tell us what the deal is with the humans putting the wolves back on the mountains."

"There have been projects like this one around for years. There were groups of red wolves reintroduced into the northeastern section of the state to roam both public and privately protected land. They've had moderate success in getting them to reproduce and thrive," Caleb told them. "You may have also heard of the larger scale project with reintroducing wolves at Yellowstone. There have been several other release locations considered, particularly in the areas where the white-tailed deer population is strong. Because the red wolves have been displaying a desire to stick to the lower elevations, it was decided to experiment with trying to release the _grey_ kind in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

"As strange as it may seem to you, Raphael, it makes sense from the standpoint of maintaining a healthy ecosystem. When the deer population rises too high, there's the risk of them over-browsing the woodlands, starving in the wintertime, and also posing a threat to the roadways and being a nuisance to the general public."

"Still seems kind of weird to me," the red-masked turtle muttered. "What if they come back here? What are we supposed to do with them?"

"I'm going to make a call to the Foundation about the pack. They can track their movement if any of the other wolves are collared. They may need to be relocated again, or euthanized if their behavior is a pattern. That's the sad part about mixing humans with wildlife. It's difficult for animals that are bred in captivity to keep the right distance from humans when they're released. Unfortunately, it can contribute to aggression too."

"That's too bad," Donny said quietly. "I _never _expected to see wolves out here. I nearly thought I was going crazy."

"They can travel great distances. The wolves probably weren't even dropped off anywhere near here," Caleb mused. "In any case, thank you for your help, Donatello, Leonardo. You risked your lives for me."

"Don't mention it, okay?" Leo requested.

"Right, because risking your lives is a nightly occurrence where you come from, isn't it?" Caleb grinned.

"It sure feels like it sometimes," Donatello said dryly.

Molly raised her head from the oversized pillow on which she was laying, looking at Donatello mournfully.

"Oh, put her on the couch already," Luke directed. "She's officially a patient, so she gets special treatment."

Leonardo scooped the black and white dog off the cushion and carefully put Molly in between Don and Raphael on the couch. Caleb grinned as the border collie rested her chin on the purple-masked turtle's leg.

"I'm telling you, it's love," Leonardo asserted.

Donatello ignored him as he patted her head happily. "I'm just glad they made it, Caleb."

The older man nodded. "I never realized how attached I am to those animals. My late wife doted on them so much, and I used to ignore them. It's no wonder they don't listen to me well."

Raphael motioned to Noah, who was currently lying at Caleb's feet. "It doesn't look like you do too badly, Caleb."

"I'm living proof that someone can change, even if it comes a little late," he replied.

"Better late than never," Raphael returned. "Some people die stuck in the same stubborn state of mind, and don't even care how wrong they are. Shell, they even revel in it sometimes, huh, Leo?"

The blue-masked turtle made steady eye contact with him. "They do. It's pretty sad to see, but some people just flat out don't care. You're not one of those people, Caleb. Far from it."


	79. Anticipating

Michelangelo sipped the protein rich drink like a good patient along with Rebecca, casting the young woman a smirk from across the table. "Kinda funny to be on the same medicine, isn't it?"

She smiled back at him, with one of the most relaxed expressions he'd seen from her in weeks. "I guess it could taste worst," she replied.

"It's really not bad." Michelangelo rested his chin in one hand as he continued gazing at her.

Rebecca had experienced a number of days without any real energy, which coincided with another treatment she'd received to ward off the possibility of miscarriage. It was three days before Thanksgiving, and Mike was relieved that he'd wheedled the docs into holding off on the second round of stem cells on _him_ until after the holiday.

_It'll be nice to have a couple more days without the stress of all of it. I'm looking forward to having as normal of a holiday as we can, and it will be good to see Victoria and Tim again. I still feel kinda bad about them being in New York, with the rest of us down here._

The curly-headed woman's forehead furrowed curiously. "What are you thinking, Mike?"

"Looking forward to Thanksgiving," he told her. "Just think. By this time next year we'll already be parents, getting ready to celebrate our first holiday season with our baby."

She smiled and nodded. "We will be."

"And all of this stupidity with me will be behind us," he added.

The first round of treatment had left the orange-masked turtle with fear and concern in its wake, but the success Caleb had experienced in getting the iPs cells to transform properly was encouraging. Even on the days when he wasn't feeling anything close to normal, it was easier to maintain a good outlook with that knowledge.

"We'll get through it," Becky said, her voice softening. "I'm supposed to be creating one of the desserts for the big meal, so you need to be thinking about what you want me to make."

The turtle nodded eagerly. "I'll have a list of possibilities before the day is over."

She laughed, swirling around what was left of the liquid in her cup.

Mike saw her eyes drift to the window, and cleared his throat. "Y'know, just because I'm on a leash doesn't mean you are, Beck. If you're feeling up to it, you should explore some."

"Oh sure, so I can get attacked by wolves."

"Says the 'Jungle Girl'," Mike teased. "I mean it. You should get out there with one of my brothers. I know you love this outdoorsy stuff."

Becky nodded. "I might, if I'm feeling up to it."

"Do you ever miss the rainforest?" he asked. "I mean, you went from one extreme to another; from the middle of nowhere, to being dropped inside New York City. That's got to be an awkward experience."

"There are certain things I miss about the Congo," she allowed. "Mostly it's just being in the right place to help people. I was in the position to communicate and translate with the natives, and help them get the things they needed. I'm still an advocate in raising funds for them, but I _do_ miss the hands on portion sometimes."

"I wish I could do it with you," he murmured. "I wish we could _both_ go."

Becky gave him a bittersweet smile. "I stand by my decision, Mikey. My heart will always be moved for the Congo, but I don't feel guilty for choosing to stay in the US. Guilt isn't the right reason to serve anyway."

"So you're not sorry you followed this big hunk of a turtle back to New York City?"

She giggled, and the sound was music to his ears.

"No, I'm not sorry. Greg was right before, even if he passed it off as a joke. Once you go 'turtle', there's no turning back."

Mike felt something weaving around his feet, and glanced down expectantly to see the orange and white striped cat. "If you wanna eat, Tiger, that's the wrong place to do it."

He pushed back from the table and began searching through a particular cupboard that he thought the cat food was in. Becky got to her feet, and reached into an upper cabinet to his left, fetching a can for the turtle.

"Tiger thanks you," he said seriously, snapping the pop-top lid off the can. The cat meowed insistently as he picked up her bowl off the floor. "The dogs already ate, right, Beck? I don't want them getting into her food again."

Becky smiled. "She's gotten good at not leaving it unattended."

"Thereby proving that you_ can _teach an old cat new tricks."

"Tiger's not_ that _old, is she?"

"She's no spring chicken. We think she was a few months old when Raph first brought her home."

"I can only imagine your Sensei's reaction."

Mike grinned. "Nah, he was okay with it. She was more scared of us than anything, but Tiger got over it pretty quick. It only took her a couple of days to realize that we weren't the big bad wolf."

The turtle had no sooner put her bowl down, than a black and white head nudged through the door.

"Noah, _no," _he said crossly. "You already had yours."

The border collie came in the rest of the way, his tail thumping against the table as he panted hopefully in the middle of the room.

"Give him a treat, Mike. He's too cute to ignore," Becky suggested.

"I'm the only one who falls under that category."

Rebecca bumped his shoulder intentionally before reaching for a box of biscuits on top of the fridge. She tossed one toward the dog, and Mike laughed at his lightning reflexes to catch it.

"He could almost be an honorary ninja."

"Have you ever seen him jump?" Becky gave him a secretive smile. "Caleb showed us the other day."

"Is he pretty good?"

"You should see him go for a Frisbee. There's a reason border collies are always winning dog agility competitions; they're extremely athletic."

They left Tiger alone to eat, and Mike shooed Noah out of the kitchen with his foot.

"Do you wanna play?" Becky asked the dog, and Mike noticed the way Noah's ears perked up. "You want to play Frisbee?"

Noah barked excitedly, prancing with anticipation as Becky headed for the front door. The black hoodie Mike was already wearing was sufficient to keep him warm outside in the cooler temperatures. The orange-masked turtle gazed at their surroundings silently.

_This isn't something I can get used to; at least, I don't want to let myself get used to it. _Many of the leaves had already fallen from the trees, but the landscape was still impressive in its scale.

Luke, Brandon, and Caleb were already sitting on the porch.

"Is the Frisbee still out here?" Becky asked.

The older man got to his feet to retrieve the disc from the corner of the porch, and then Caleb followed Rebecca and Noah down the stairs. Mike wanted nothing more than to run around with the dog, but he couldn't move that fast without getting lightheaded. Molly was sitting at Luke's feet, and she wagged her tail as Mike came over to sit with the men.

The turtle stretched a hand down to pat her head. "Good girl. Nice doggy."

Brandon grinned. "You've come leaps and bounds, Mike."

"They're cool. I just hope I get the chance to actually _play_ with them," Mike returned.

"Well, Molly's stuck in the same boat as you, at least until her leg heals," Luke pointed out. "She'd enjoy hanging out with you."

"Only 'cause Don's working." Mike snorted.

Luke shook his head as Brandon laughed.

"How's the shoulder feelin', Bran?" Mike asked.

The man had been going without the sling for a few days now. "It's fine. I haven't had any serious pain in a while. I think I could start working out full-time before Christmas."

"And I still think he needs to take his time," Luke said.

Michelangelo smiled at the doctor. "Same story as ever, huh, Doc? Why should it change now?"

His attention was drawn to the grass as Caleb threw the Frisbee, and Noah leaped into the air to catch it. The turtle whistled as he continued the watch the exhibition of the dog's gravity-defying skills.

"He's really good," Mike commented. "Where did he learn to jump like that?"

"It's a natural behavior," Luke replied. "People have just learned how to encourage it."

"I'd like to _see _someone try to fence them in." Brandon chuckled.

"The amount of excess energy those dogs carry is only equivalent to one other person I've ever known." Luke fixed Mike with a smile.

"Remind me what that was like, will ya?" Mike said impishly. Luke grimaced, but the turtle's smile didn't falter. "It's okay, Doc. I'll get there."

The blond man nodded firmly. "You certainly will. We've made some good progress with the iPs cells. We already know they can regenerate your tissue, now it's only a matter of shutting down the cells that are still attacking your lungs."

"Hey, are you still up for checking your storage stuff in the basement?" Mike asked suddenly.

"What stuff?"

"You know, Christmas things."

Luke laughed. "Can we get through Thanksgiving before I have to think about Christmas?"

"It makes Becky happy," Mike told him. "I understand if you don't want to use your old things. I know there are memories and all."

Luke smiled a little vacantly, in a way that made it seem he was looking at something that no one else could see. "I don't mind using the old stuff," he said. "Those memories don't make me sad anymore. I'm happy to be here, Mike, though I wasn't sure if I would be. I loved growing up in this house, and part of me thought it would feel empty without my parents. But it _isn't_ empty. It's fuller than it's ever been. I'm glad I get to experience another holiday season here."

Brandon silently gazed at Rebecca and Caleb playing with Noah, and sighed heavily. "It's a great place, Luke. I don't envy a lot of things that other people have, but your parents have to be one of them. I mean...I had a good mom, who took care of us and loved us until the day she died. But when I start to look back at my life, most of the time, I wish that I hadn't. No matter how hard my mom tried, there was always a dark cloud over special occasions for me."

Mike stayed quiet, and let Brandon have the reigns of the conversation. The man wasn't in the habit of talking about his past, and any time he volunteered information, Mike was prone to pay close attention.

Brandon continued after a moment. "When I was a kid, I used to imagine my dad would come back. I'd make up these games where he was a good man, and we were still a family. I probably did that until I was about nine years old. That was when I figured out that I was fooling myself, and there was no sense in crying anymore. So I stopped."

"What do you mean, you _stopped_?" Mike asked.

"I didn't want to waste another tear on that man, and I haven't. To this day I don't feel like crying - only pummeling him for what he did to Karina a few years ago."

"You_ really _never cried over your dad again?" Mike verified.

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with crying, Mike. I just don't do it."

"Ever?" Luke spoke up.

Brandon shrugged awkwardly. "I have regrets, I feel sad about things...but no, I don't cry."

"Dude, _everybody's_ gotta let go at some point," Mike said.

Brandon continued staring at the scene in the grass without looking at the turtle. "I just don't, Mike," he said finally. "But it's a moot issue now. He's long gone with Kari's money, and I honestly don't want him to be found. I don't ever want to have to look at his face again. I'd rather forget that he exists."

"But _you _wouldn't exist without him," Mike ventured. "Sensei used to say that unforgiveness is a poison that destroys you from the inside out. It's not even about your dad, Bran, it's about you. Don't you wanna be free of him?"

"I _am_ free of him, and I couldn't care less if he abandoned me as a kid. I got over it. I learned how to be strong without him. But I'm not okay with him hurting my mom, and I'll never be able to deal with what he did to Karina. _He's_ the poison that's been at the root of most of the trauma in my life. Why would I want to see him again?"

"I think what Mike was saying, is that you're hurting yourself more by hanging onto these feelings than you would be in letting him go," Luke said quietly.

Brandon shook his head. "Neither of you understand this. You had good fathers. We all lost them, but yours didn't do the things mine did. There's not going to be a 'Marcus' style reconciliation, like he had with his dad when he came back from the Congo. It isn't going to happen. If I ever have to see Carl James again, he's going to get _more_ than a piece of my mind. He'll be swallowing his teeth."

The note of finality in Brandon's voice told Mike to leave it alone. _Shell, it's no wonder he's got a short fuse, carrying around something like this._

"So, um...I figured you might want to check out the stuff in the basement _with_ me," Luke said to Mike, beginning again as if nothing had happened. "We'll have to sort through it, so we know what else we need to pick up. One thing is for sure: we're going to make this Christmas special. We've got each other, we've got the kids...and we're going to have a good holiday. But we do need to focus on Thanksgiving first," he finished wryly.

Mike grinned. "Raphy won't be able to escape the parade this year."

"Are they still having that?" Brandon sounded surprised.

"They scaled it back, but yes," Luke replied. "The city needs some sense of normality."

"And Raph's got a kid now, so Liv needs to watch it to see Santa," Mike added.

"Yeah, Mikey...let me know how that argument works out for you." Brandon smirked.


	80. Together

April woke to the sound of feet pounding down the stairs, and jerked upright with a start. Marcus reached out a hand to steady her.

"It's all right, April. Greg is harnessing his inner child."

"Didn't his mother teach him not to run in the house?" she asked impishly.

"No, I'm pretty sure she was too busy shooting cocaine to care."

April winced. "So maybe he can get away with acting like an overgrown child sometimes."

"At least on holidays." Marc laughed. "Are you hungry?"

"Sort of, but I don't want to each much," she replied. "I want to save room for later. I guess I should quit being lazy though."

Marcus made a scoffing sound. "Sleeping until 8:30 in the morning doesn't make you lazy, woman."

"It does for a reporter who used to have to cover every morning event known to mankind."

"That's the great part about seniority. Someone else gets to have all the fun now."

"You look like you've been up for a while. Why didn't you wake me?" April asked.

"I didn't want to bug you, and Raph didn't want a break today. You know I've been working with him in the mornings, trying to keep his strength building up."

"How do you think his legs are healing?"

"The right one is in good shape. The bones have mended, and he could use it if he needed to. It shouldn't be long before he can get around on crutches. The one we reconstructed is still a work in progress. The alignment appears to be holding, and that's the important thing."

April reached for a rubberband that was sitting on the bedside table, and quickly wrapped her hair up in a ponytail. She caught Marc gazing at her and smiled. "Happy Thanksgiving, hon."

He bent down to kiss her, and stood up straight. "Happy Thanksgiving."

April changed into some jeans and a comfortable shirt before accompanying Marcus downstairs. The red-head stood back for a few seconds at the bottom of the stairs, just to take everything in. The Great Room was already filled with activity; it appeared she was the only one who'd attempted to "sleep in" this morning.

A random bickering match over the remote was already taking place between Raphael and Michelangelo. Noah was tearing across the room with both Tiger _and_ Reina on his heels. Olivia was squealing from Brandon's arms, longing to join in the game of chase the animals were playing, and the TV was blaring something about blowing bubbles filled with kittens in the background of it all. The purple-masked turtle was sitting silently on the other couch facing his brothers, scratching Molly's head as if nothing was going on around him.

April chuckled as she moved toward Donatello. "How do you sit here so calmly in the middle of this?"

"April, I grew up with three brothers. I'm _used_ to bedlam." He grinned.

"How's your friend?" She pointed to the dog.

"Molly's fine. She's holding off from walking so she doesn't lose her couch privileges."

"You're an enabler, Donny," she teased. "So what's going on?"

"The girls are in the kitchen with Victoria, who's kind of taken the reigns for today. The others are just backing her up."

April cast a look at the orange-masked turtle. "Mike looks pretty good."

Don shrugged. "He loves holidays."

"He _loves_ giving Raph a hard time over them."

"It's pretty easy to do." Donny laughed. "You want to sit down? There's room for more inside Camp Chaos."

April settled into the couch cushions, gazing at Donatello. It was nice to see the turtle so relaxed. There had been many reasons for stress over the last few weeks, but the holidays were a good reason to take a vacation from anxiety.

The woman raised her legs swiftly as Noah charged by her, and saw Donatello clutch his mug closer to his plastron.

"It's only going to get crazier you know," Donatello said dryly. "This is but a small glimpse of the future."

"At least we won't get bored." April smiled. "I think we should consider making a tradition out of spending the holidays here, no matter where we are in our lives. It's a nice escape from reality."

Donatello nodded soberly, and April could tell that there _were _still thoughts rolling around in his mind. After a moment the lines in his face faded, and he smiled again as he focused on Mike and Raph.

"We ain't watching the whole parade, Mikey," Raphael argued. "They shouldn't even be having it this year."

"People need _something_ to look forward to, Raphy," Mike retorted. "The city wasn't destroyed, and that's as good a reason to celebrate as any."

"I'll turn on the last ten minutes so Liv can 'meet' Santa Clause, but I'm not sitting through hours of fake solos and dance numbers."

"What do you have against dance numbers?" Karina called from the kitchen door.

Raph sent a guilty look her direction. "I'm not talking about _your_ dancing, Kari. It's all the stupid musical numbers you gotta sit through just to watch some dumb parade. It wouldn't be as bad if it was only the balloons."

"You used to like the cheerleaders too," Mike said in a stage whisper.

"_Shut it_, Mikey," Raphael hissed.

"Your daughter wants to watch it. Liv already told me," Mike insisted.

"How the shell did she _tell _you, Mike?"

"We know a secret language, which is only spoken by the coolest few."

"Then there's no way _you_ understand it."

Donatello shook his head. "Do you think their kids will fight as badly as they do?"

April laughed as a genuinely glad feeling rose up inside her. She held onto it gratefully; she hadn't expected to feel anything of the kind today. "They won't be actual siblings, but it's safe to say they'll have rivalry."

"You know I'm gonna get my way, Raph," Mike continued. "There's no sense in fighting me. We watch this parade every year, and this one is no different, except that you can't chase me down."

Michelangelo made a grab for the remote, and Raphael pulled it another direction. Mike feigned as if he was about to try again, but followed Raphael's evasive maneuver this time, managing to snatch it from the red-masked turtle.

"Ha! I win!"

"You're gonna pay, I swear to God-"

"I'm so scared, Raph."

"You're _gonna _be when I finally get my hands on you!"

"Whoever said that the holidays are all about peace on Earth and goodwill toward men never spent one with you guys," April asserted.

* * *

><p>The red-head felt completely satisfied. By some kind of magic, the day seemed to have lasted twice as long as normal, and the food had tasted better than ever. Their surroundings were the only part of the day that was such a departure from the usual celebration. The old sewer Den had felt cold and dark to April when she'd first been introduced to it, and the woman had wondered if she would<em> ever <em>feel comfortable there. Over months and years it had become a home away from homes, where the atmosphere was physically lifting because of the company the Den contained. As much as she enjoyed Lotus Salvus, she would have preferred to be at home, and for everything to be truly normal.

April looked across the room at Michelangelo with his arm resting lightly around Becky. He looked happy, but it was obvious that the turtle was exhausted. Mike was braced against the back of the couch as if he wouldn't have been able to sit up on his own. She swallowed as she forced down the tears that were threatening.

_If I let myself go down this road, I'm not going to get it back._

April willfully looked away from Mike, casting all thought of his sickness out of her mind. Everyone else had been putting on a good face, and she wasn't going to be the one who fell apart. The holidays were usually a little emotional for her anyway, and it didn't take much to push her over the edge. She gripped the mug of hot cider that she hadn't tasted yet, and focused on the amber flames that were dancing a few feet away from her chair.

The front door opened, and a blast of cold air came with it. The blue-masked turtle came inside, with Greg immediately behind him. April nodded a greeting at the two of them, and Leo ambled her direction.

"You were gone for a while," she remarked.

"We made a sweep of the perimeter in addition to gathering some more wood," he replied. "Ever since we had the issue with the wolves, we've been a little jumpy."

"Did you see anything?"

He shook his head. "No. It's quiet." Leonardo glanced around the subdued room. "It's quiet here too. I'm surprised I can hear myself think this easily."

"Everyone's full." April laughed. "I'm sure that helps."

The smile he gave her was melancholy at best. April sent a meaningful glance to the kitchen, doing it slowly to be sure the turtle would see it.

"Can I get you something hot?" she offered.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed readily. "I'll go with you."

The woman led the way to the kitchen, and peered through the door at the empty room. "Why don't you sit down?" she suggested. "There's still cider on the stove."

April selected another mug from the cupboard and ladled out a portion of cider for Leonardo. He looked at her knowingly as she set the cup in front of him, and took a seat herself.

"Thanks," he said. "What are you thinking about, April?"

"I'm trying _not_ to think," she said honestly. "Because if I really start to, all the fear comes rushing back."

After a beat of hesitation, he nodded. "I think everyone has done a great job of being positive today, but we don't need to try and fool ourselves either. We're not home. We don't know if we _have _a home. There are a lot of uncertainties with Mike. But life is going on. It always does somehow, even when people aren't there anymore." The turtle looked down at his mug without actually drinking it. "Something about the way all of these circumstances are adding up has me thinking of Sensei a lot today. I know it's been years, but sometimes...his death can still hit me like it just happened."

April nodded. "He was your father, Leo, but he was even more than that. He was your teacher, and the only authority figure you ever had. You were all exceptionally close to Splinter, more so than I bet a lot of humans are with _their _fathers. I don't think you ever get over losing a bond like that one."

The turtle didn't say anything. He drew his mug off the table and took a small sip of the hot liquid. "I've been fighting with this all day, and I don't know if I can keep it up."

"It's okay for you to miss Splinter, Leo."

"I know. I just feel like...if I get emotional, it'll be the one domino that knocks down the entire stack. You know what I mean?"

"Of course I do. Why do you think I invited you into the kitchen?"

Leonardo gave her a half grin and exhaled softly. "I'm glad you're here, April. I'm glad _everyone_ is here. It's hard enough being away from home, but missing anyone at this point would only make it worse. What do you suppose it's like to be one of those people who'd rather _avoid_ their families around the holidays?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that." She smiled, but it faded as the tension in Leonardo's shoulders became more pronounced. "You're still leading them, Leo," April offered suddenly.

"Hm?"

"You're still the guiding power behind this family, and you're doing well with holding it together."

"I don't always feel that way," he said tiredly. "Sometimes I'm afraid, especially over Mike. I don't think I've ever been so scared before."

"It's all right to be scared," she returned. "Everyone is."

The blue-masked turtle still avoided eye contact. "I want to be able to protect him, the way I've always tried to. I don't want Mike to see me scared or doubting. He shouldn't have to carry the knowledge that I'm more afraid than he is."

April shook her head. "At the end of the day, honesty works best, Leo. And according to Marc and the others, we have a reason to be optimistic. We've only taken one step, but it worked out well."

Leonardo nodded. "I feel like I'm borrowing trouble a little, but it's hard to shake."

"That's called being a concerned brother."

"I guess." Leo took another drink from the mug. "I think I'm okay. Are _you_ okay?"

April squeezed his wrist. "Let's get back out into the thick of things."


	81. Regrets

Katherine never got tired of watching her younger sister dance. Despite having chosen a very different path from Karina, Kat had always respected what the young woman had achieved over the years.

_Karina is a lot more like Mom than I am. I can just imagine how proud Mom would be to know that her little girl is training dancers on Broadway, and choreographing entire numbers. Kari is so talented, I only wish..._

Kat broke the thought off to watch Karina and Calley's bodies in motion, springing across the mat in the finished basement as if they had the same gravity-defying ease as their ninja counterparts.

_I never saw Karina with Raphael, not in a million years_, she thought with amusement. _But it's an undeniable match. I never imagined her _or_ Brandon meeting the turtles. I thought they were happy with their lives in California, and that they didn't need to know about the guys. Looking back, I don't understand how I could have been so blind...or selfish. Some "big sister" I've been._

The exercise Karina was leading the younger woman in was growing more intricate, but Katherine wouldn't have known from the easy expression on Calley's face. The effort appeared to have little or no effect on the blond woman's spirit. It was easy to see how Calley had already earned some acclaim in the industry in New York. She was breathtaking to watch, partially because it was more than a simple visual experience. To watch Calley was to _feel _whatever the young woman felt, and for a few brief moments, become part of the magic as it was being woven.

Karina's talent was obvious to Katherine's eye too, but her sister carried a bitter sweetness she'd never been able to completely part with. Lately, however, Karina's melancholy undercurrent had become more prevalent, and it left Kat concerned.

_It started before Mike got sick and Raphael was hurt...long before the earthquake and being forced to leave the city. I've tried to give her the benefit of some privacy, but I'm not sure if I should do that anymore. _As she watched Karina spin in an elegant fashion, Kat couldn't help staring at how beautiful her sister looked. _I was always more of a tom boy, even when I was young. Karina was the girl that my mom dreamed of having. I assumed the two of them were so happy together, I allowed myself to get lazy, as if I didn't need to actually try. Knowing that they had each other certainly made it easier for me to run away to the East Coast, and pursue what made _me _happy._

Katherine watched Karina finish out the song, hardly taking her eyes off the young woman. As her sister excused herself to the kitchenette on the other side of the basement, Calley reached for a towel that was sitting in a nearby chair.

The blond woman had barely wiped her own forehead before she turned an inquisitive gaze on Katherine. "What's the matter?"

_She must have noticed the way I was staring at Kari. Geesh, I wonder if _Karina_ noticed._

Katherine shook her head. "I don't know, Calley. I need to talk to Karina, and try to find out."

Calley nodded understandingly, her gaze resting on Karina's returning figure.

Karina held out a bottled water toward her. "There you go, _hermana_. Do you want to go a bit longer, or are you satisfied for today?"

"I think I'm going to call it quits for right now," Calley answered. "I want to catch up with Leo. Thanks for your help, Karina."

"Hey, it's all _you_, Chica. You've been working really hard to stay in shape while we're down here, and it's going to pay off. I can't wait to see you on another stage."

The blond woman ducked her head slightly. "Not without you, that's for sure. I'll see you girls later."

Calley headed upstairs, and Karina gave Katherine a casual smile, like she didn't know that anything unusual was going on.

_Then she _didn't_ notice me watching. I guess I should just come out with it, and if she feels like talking, then she feels like talking._

"Kari, would you sit down with me?" Kat requested, motioning to the couch a few steps away.

Her younger sister followed her over to the furniture, giving her a strange look as she settled down on a cushion. "Are you all right, Kat?"

"That's what I was going to ask _you_," Katherine replied. "I've noticed a pattern of you being down over the last few months. And it isn't...I don't want to interfere. You're an adult, and you don't have to answer to me. But I need to tell you that I'm a little worried. I know I haven't been a good big sister, and I'm _still _not good at this, as you can probably tell. But I can't stand by like I don't see it."

Karina raised her eyebrows curiously. "What do you mean you haven't been a good sister?"

"I left you and everyone else in California to pursue my dream, and started living my own life completely separate from you. Even though we're all together now, I still don't feel like I'm aware of you the way I should be. I haven't done well by you and Brandon."

"Kat, whatever's wrong with me, it wasn't your doing," Karina returned.

"Kari, what's going on? You can tell me. No matter what it is, I'm not going to judge you, or think you're stupid. I love you, and I only want to help."

"I don't think you_ can _help, Kat. I'm not even sure how to put this into words."

"Try," Kat pleaded. "Tell me _something_."

Karina fussed with a strand of bronze hair self-consciously, and didn't say anything for a couple of seconds. "I've been dealing with the most stubborn sense of regret I've ever faced, Kat. I thought I was done with this. I assumed that I'd reached a turning point, and I wouldn't have to think about him anymore."

"Him...do you mean Dad?"

Karina nodded. "He's been returning to mind ever since I had Olivia, that and the way I screwed things up."

"Kari, he's the one who hurt _you_. Why are you acting like this is your fault?"

"Kat, don't you remember what Mom went through to keep the doors of her Studio open? For years she slaved and sacrificed for_ her _dream, and in one fell swoop, I ruined everything."

"_He _ruined everything."

"He couldn't have gotten anywhere if my stupidity hadn't been involved."

Katherine bit her tongue to prevent herself from venting a frustrated grunt. She watched Karina as her sister's gaze focused on the window, rather than on her.

"I wanted the opportunity to get to know him, Kat. Despite him leaving when we were kids, I really thought there was a possibility he could have changed, that he wanted a relationship with me, for the first time. He told me he regretted not being there for us, that it was the biggest mistake he'd ever made. I can't believe I accepted him back into my life as easily as I did, but he said things that made me feel..." Karina paused for a long moment. "I felt like I was actually _worth_ something. But I was just being blind to the man he is."

Katherine tugged her wrist, drawing her sister to look at her. "You listen to me. What he did is no reflection on you, Kari. You're valuable because of who you are - not because of what he says or does."

"I've told myself that a thousand times, Kat, and it doesn't change the way I feel inside. It's just something I'm going to have to work through." The younger woman shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to confront him. I don't expect him to care about the way he destroyed me. If he cared, he wouldn't have done it to begin with. I'm sorry, sis. I'm trying to get into a good frame of mind - I really am."

"You don't need to apologize to me, Kari. I only wanted to tell you that I'm here for you."

"I don't question that." Karina gave her a genuine smile. "Would you like to go upstairs and see how much trouble our girls are getting into?"

Katherine laughed. "That's probably a good idea. It's only safe to leave them with the guys for so long."

As they emerged from the basement and headed into the Great Room, Katherine couldn't help gazing around the transformed space. It hadn't taken very long for Lotus Salvus to get into Christmas mode. The decorating had started two days after Thanksgiving, and continued building in the four days that followed.

Greg had flown Victoria and Tim back to the city, and was staying behind himself this time. He'd cited business that he needed to get done in New York before the holidays, and the three of them would be returning together in a few more days. Katherine had gotten used to having her old partner around, so she was a little sad to see him go.

_He'll be back soon though. I don't think any of them want to be gone for very long with the way things are right now._

Mike had already received the second wave of the stem cell transplant that the docs had planned, and he had slowed down considerably from the exuberance he'd displayed over Thanksgiving. The orange-masked turtle was the first one Kat found herself looking for, because she hadn't seen him yet today. She was relieved to find him in a recliner in the Great Room, although it looked like he was dozing. Tiger was curled up in his lap, and one of his hands was resting comfortably on her back.

Karina left her side to greet Raphael, and the red-masked turtle broke into a grin as she approached. "Hey, Kari. Did you get a good workout in?"

"I think it was productive," Karina replied, glancing at the crutches that were sitting beside him. "You're not overdoing it with those things, are you?"

"Can't a guy have a little mobility around here without getting the third degree?"

"_Mas vale prevenir que curar_," (Better to prevent than to cure), she muttered under her breath.

Katherine laughed without meaning to, and Raphael looked exasperated.

"We could have our _own _private jokes in Japanese if we wanted to," he grumbled.

Jenna chuckled from the couch beside him. "They're sisters, Raph, and they love their heritage. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong with it, until they're laughing and I don't know why," he complained. "It_ must _be a sister thing, because we never heard a lick of Spanish out of Kat until Karina got here."

"That's because I embrace our culture, and Kat would rather hide from it," Karina teased lightly.

"That isn't true, at least not in the sense that I'm ashamed of it," Katherine insisted. "None of you understand what I went through with the first job I took in New York, to help support me through college. I went to interview for a position at a Bank, even though I didn't think I would get it. I knew of at least two other people that had applied who were more qualified than I was. Imagine my surprise when I found out they wanted to hire me!

"As odd as it seemed, I didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. I'd been on the job for about a month at the Bank, before I found out _why_ I'd been hired over the other people. It was strictly based on my ethnicity; hiring me supported the image they were trying to portray. I was horrified. Maybe some people don't mind getting ahead_ just _because of their heritage, but I'm not one of them.

"After that happened, I played down my nationality as much as possible. It's complicated enough being a woman inside the men's world of the FBI, without being a minority too. I did everything I could to take away from my heritage, because I wanted to get ahead on my _merit_, because I'd truly earned it. Now with Karina, the cultural background was only fitting in her line of work."

Her sister laughed. "Hey, that's a bit of a stereo-type, isn't it?"

Katherine rolled her eyes, but Karina's smile never faltered.

"You left yourself open for that," Karina told her.

Kat tapped her sister's back affectionately. "We're both happy Latinas, and I'm proud of it."

Katherine sensed movement from her left, and looked over to see Michelangelo getting slowly to his feet.

The turtle nodded at both women in greeting. "We're all proud of our multi-cultural bunch," he said faintly.

"That's a pretty big word for you." Raphael snickered. "Where are you going, Bro?"

"Nowhere. I'll be back in a minute."

As Mike shuffled down the hall, Katherine noticed the way Raphael's concerned gaze followed him. When she was sure Michelangelo was out of earshot, she took a step closer to the red-masked turtle. "Is everything okay?"

Raphael shrugged. "I don't know. Something ain't right with him today. He doesn't look good to _you_, does he? He shoulda stayed in bed, but it makes him feel like a prisoner."

Katherine sighed softly. "I wish you guys didn't struggle so much with taking time off. Has Luke or anyone said something about him?"

Raphael shook his head. "Not really, nothing new. Doc checked him this morning, but he didn't mention anything in particular to us."

Katherine shifted her weight on her feet uncomfortably. She didn't feel like she was good at this supportive role, not like the other women in the house. _Seeing Mike this way...it reminds me so much of my mom, and the fact that I wasn't there when she got sick. I wasn't there to help like I should have been. Now I'm actually _here_, but I still don't know what I should be doing._

"Where are the kids?" Karina asked suddenly, breaking Katherine out of contemplation.

"They're eating in the kitchen with Becky," Jenna told her. "She's got them both fixed up in the highchairs; Becky said she needed the practice."

"And your infamous brothers?" Katherine asked Raphael impishly.

"Don and Leo are keeping an eye on the dogs with Bran," he replied. "They let Molly and Noah out back a few minutes ago. You know how they don't want to let them out of their sight."

"I think I'll go see how they're faring," Kat remarked.

The woman headed down the hallway that connected to the back of the house, and as she crossed into the sitting room on the other side, she noticed Michelangelo in her path. He was hovering in the center of the room, leaning against the recliner that Raphael had favored in the past.

"Mike?" she said questioningly.

His plastron was heaving, and he didn't respond or look at her.

"Mike," Kat said louder. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, and she suddenly realized he was _gripping_ the chair for dear life.

"I'll get Donny; he's right outside," she said swiftly.

"Don't leave," he said weakly.

"You need to sit down," she said firmly. "It's going to be all right. I'll help you off your feet, then I'll get your brother. C'mon, you don't have to go far."

Mike grimaced as he shook his head this time. "I can't."

Katherine could tell that his legs were faltering, and wrapped an arm around his side. "Mike..."

Without further warning he collapsed, and she just managed to keep his head from cracking the floor. Her heart-rate quickened as Katherine patted his cheek insistently, even though she didn't expect it to do any good. He was out cold, and the scant breath that was leaving his chest felt frail and almost pointless.


	82. Emergency

***You _knew_ it couldn't go off without a hitch, didn't you? ::Sigh:: Curse the addiction to suspense...**

* * *

><p>Caleb was startled out of his mind when Leonardo burst into the Lab, the turtle breathing so quickly that he could hardly put two words together.<p>

"Doc-Mike-"

Luke was on his feet in a flash. "Leo, where is he? What's wrong?"

"Donny's coming, he was right-"

Before Leonardo could finish, the purple-masked turtle raced into the room with Michelangelo braced over his shoulder. "He's de-saturated; blood oxygen level is down to 70%! I think he might be in respiratory failure!"

Caleb's mind told his feet to move, but his legs wouldn't obey. All he could do was _watch _while Luke swung into action.

"Get him over here, Don! Is he still breathing on his own?"

"I can't detect any respiration, not within the last minute! Katherine said he was still breathing when he collapsed."

"We'll go to the mechanical ventilator," Luke said immediately.

Caleb was still frozen in time while he watched the blond doctor rapidly prepare the dreaded machine that had been set aside in case it was needed, and Marcus dashed into the room.

"What's going on?" Marcus demanded, running to join Donatello beside the orange-masked turtle.

The turtle was staring at the screen of his scanner and didn't respond right away. "He's in acute respiratory failure, and there's pulmonary distress on top of it! Marc, help me get his airway open while Doc finishes with the machine! Let's get him intubated so the tube is ready to be hooked up to the ventilator." When Donatello looked up, he must have noticed his blue-masked brother hovering nearby. "Leo - _out!" _he commanded with more force than Caleb had ever heard come from his mouth.

Marcus used a laryngoscope to smoothly insert a tube down Mike's throat while Donatello was concentrating on interpreting his vitals, and Luke was dragging the mechanical ventilator over to the bed.

"What were you saying about pulmonary distress, Donny?" Luke asked.

Donatello was reading from the screen of his scanner even as he responded to Luke. "I think hypoxia might have settled into the heart muscle; its function is already decreasing."

"Ephifine, Marc, GO!" Luke ordered, taking the other end of the endotracheal tube from the man so he could finish attaching it to the ventilator. "We need a _steel_ gauge needle to get to his heart!" he reminded him.

Marcus hurried across the room to the refrigerator, and returned in seconds with a bluish vial. Caleb watched the man load a special needle, but Donatello reached to take it from him.

"I'll do it, Marc," Donatello insisted, and took a deep breath.

Caleb's eyes widened as the purple-masked turtle plunged the needle into the general area of where Mike's heart would be. As the numb disbelief began to give way, panic was threatening to overwhelm the man's mind. He wasn't trained for _this_, wasn't prepared to deal with the possible consequences of how the cells he'd created could affect the orange-masked turtle. Caleb had known and accepted the risks when he'd taken on the job, but it didn't make it any easier to watch the situation unfolding in front of him.

"Can I...is there something I can be doing?" he finally faltered, feeling lost and inadequate. _I did this to him, something in the calculations must have been wrong. I caused this, and I can't even do anything to fix it._

"Not quite yet," Luke answered evenly. "Give us a chance to get him stable, then we can focus on the imaging software and another biopsy. Don, what are you getting on his cardiac output?"

"It's increasing a little, but not enough for my liking."

"He may require a larger dose of the ephifine, Donny, as much as I'd like to avoid that. Marc, will you go ahead and get the external monitor set up so we can keep an eye on his vitals easier?" Luke requested.

_I don't understand how they do this. I don't. They're best friends, family even. How can they possibly remain this rational when they're dealing with one of their own dying right in front of them? _

Caleb felt useless for the first time in months. Intensive work had led them to this point, and the encouragement he'd received from the success of the first round of stem cells had left the man feeling cautiously confident. Now he felt like nothing more than a fool for believing he had a shot of delivering Mike from the deadly genetic condition with so little groundwork laid. He willfully looked away from the orange-masked turtle, unable to take another second of the image of Mike in the throes of death.

_I didn't go into genetics to practice medicine. I didn't want to be the one implementing cures. I wanted to study and discover solutions from a safe distance. It can't really be ending right now, can it? _Caleb's legs felt weak as he backed away from the others, reaching a hand behind him to find a desk chair as his body trembled. _I should have been prepared for the eventuality, I should have known..._

Caleb slumped down in a chair, resting his elbows heavily on top of his legs. _I don't know where I went wrong, and I probably won't until I get a good picture of his lungs. The mutated cells may been more powerful than I anticipated. The iPs cells may not have been stable enough to hold their own against the defective ones. I should be going through the other cultures I'm developing, finding out how quickly the cells could be brought up to speed and ready for implantation, not sitting here in shock while he dies in front of me._

Caleb's initial intention in coming to Lotus Salvus had been to try and remain separate and impartial from the strange family unit. He'd achieved it rather easily for the first couple of weeks, finding it simple to avoid contact with the others. He couldn't avoid dealing with Michelangelo, however; the orange-masked turtle was the entire reason he was _here_. Despite his effort to remain objective, the turtle had drawn Caleb in with his good-natured spirit, his humor, and his courage.

_And now I'm attached - _me_. The one who was so caught up in my own discoveries that I couldn't take a minute to notice what was happening with my wife. I discounted the anemia, took no notice of the severity of her symptoms until it was too late to do anything but watch her die. If I'd only paid more attention, if they'd caught it earlier, the doctors could have treated the tumors. I didn't deserve Susan, and I don't deserve to be here. I've done nothing but get their hopes up._

Tears rose as he buried his head between his arms. The room had become silent, except for the hum of machines and the steady rhythm of the monitoring equipment.

"Caleb?" Luke called.

He looked up to meet his friend's blue eyes, trying to convey all of the sorrow that was crashing down inside of him for the mistake he must have made with Michelangelo. No amount of repentance would be able to make up for it.

"Caleb, are you..." Luke didn't finish, resting a hand on the older man's shoulder. "You don't look good. Um...don't try to get up, okay? We've already got the imaging scanner prepared, so we'll take the new footage, and we'll need your expertise to decipher it."

"My expertise?" he echoed shakily. "You mean the expertise that's succeeding in killing him?"

"He isn't dead, Caleb-"

"A blood oxygen content of 70%? Luke, I may not be a part of your medical community, but I understand how dire the situation is. How quickly you had to bring out the ventilator proves that. How stable can you determine he is?"

Luke inhaled a breath, and slowly let it out. "He isn't breathing on his own. He needs the support of the machine and an increased flow of oxygen to maintain any kind of airway."

"What about his heart?"

"Mike suffered from a lapse in cardiac output, probably due to hypoxia that was brought on by the respiratory failure. By supporting his breathing, we're dealing with the complication to his heart."

"What did Donatello do with that shot he gave him?"

"We were concerned that Mike's heart was going to stop altogether. Ephifine is a special compound that's designed both to ward off the possibility of shock, and take drastic action with the heart when it's required. It's kind of a kick-start in the form on an injection."

Caleb stared at Donatello, suddenly seeing the turtle in an entirely new light. He'd long been aware of Don's genius, but he'd still been surprised by his calm, rapid reaction to his brother's condition. Donatello had never panicked, not even now that the initial adrenaline had to have worn off.

"I'm sorry." Caleb barely breathed the words. "I'm sorry, Luke. I was wrong to attempt this, wrong to think that it could be accomplished this quickly."

"Caleb, he_ isn't _dead," Luke repeated firmly.

"Luke, I'm not an idiot. I look at him, and I know the situation isn't good."

"I didn't say it _was_ good," Luke countered. "But we don't give up hope in this family, not until the last light goes out. That hasn't happened, and God willing, it isn't going to. You sit here and get the program open on this side, because we're going to get the scanner running on Michelangelo."

Caleb's silent worthlessness continued for a few more minutes while he waited on first the software, then the imaging to align with each other, and produce the picture of the turtle's lungs. He stared vapidly at the computer screen while he waited, as if it might actually hold the answer to the puzzle in front of them. _What puzzle is there to figure out? The science wasn't ready to support this, and I couldn't pull it off. I can create tissue, but I can't shut down the missiles that are destroying it. _

As the images began loading, he silenced every ounce of self-doubt, and tried to focus on interpreting where he'd gone so wrong.

* * *

><p>Luke had argued with Caleb for over forty minutes about delivering the prognosis to the group, but the older man remained adamant about doing some of the talking. It was his own miscalculation that had likely triggered the respiratory failure, and he felt responsible for explaining it.<p>

Once he was inside the Great Room with everyone looking at him, his knees suddenly felt weak again. _Be strong. For once in your life do what needs to be done, at the_ time _it needs to be done. _

Caleb scanned the faces of the turtles and humans he'd only known for a couple of months, and was amazed by the variety of emotions he was faced with. He was so caught up in watching the reactions of the others, he only heard the tail-end of Luke's speech.

"...The truth is, we don't know what's going to happen. I'd like to tell you that there's a simple solution, where Mike could just stay on the ventilator for 'x' amount of time, and he'll begin to breathe on his own. We're_ hoping _that his body will be able to support itself again, and we're taking steps to help the process along." Luke glanced at Caleb as he finished.

The older man took a shuddering breath as he approached center stage. "I knew going into this about the risks and the possible complications, but it's still very difficult to stand in front of all of you right now. From the images I've studied over the last two hours, I can surmise that something went awry with the new iPs cells that were transplanted. I don't know what happened to the cells we manipulated - I can't even _find_ them.

"My guess is that the mutated cells proved much more difficult to overcome than I assumed they would be. When I performed tests in the Lab involving the defective cells and the created iPs cells in a controlled environment, the mutated ones couldn't stand up against the new cultures. I believe I may have made a mistake in the number of iPs cells that were transplanted, because I thought the defective cells would go down easier.

"It appears that I didn't implant enough of the new cultures to make an impact on the mutated cells, and only succeeded in creating the traumatic event that was probably caused by their clash. I'm guessing that the iPs cells that were recently implanted are already dead, and that whatever happened inside of his lungs contributed to the respiratory failure." Caleb finally took another breath, and finished more quietly. "I take responsibility for this event."

The room was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. It remained that way until the blue-masked turtle rose to his feet.

"Medicine isn't perfect, Caleb, _you_ aren't perfect. You warned all of us coming in that nothing was certain. All we want to know is what happens next. Do you have any kind of steps that you can take?"

_I'd like to take my hands off completely, before I drive him into an impending grave, _Caleb thought inwardly. "I have a couple more strains of iPs cells that are nearly mature, in addition to the cultures that are ready to be implanted. If I only implant the ones that are ready as of this moment, I'm afraid they'll be killed by the mutated cells just as quickly as the last batch. Or worse, they could induce another dramatic plunge in his blood oxygenation. My thought is to help the manipulated cells gang up on the defective ones, by implanting _more_ of them at once."

"But you said the other cultures weren't quite ready," Leonardo verified.

"I need a couple of days, at the very least," Caleb affirmed.

"In the meantime, we're monitoring Mike, and hoping for the best," Luke added.

Caleb looked at the floor. _I only hope I'm not signing his death certificate by waiting._


	83. Faith

Rebecca had been lying on the cot in the Lab for several hours, but couldn't keep her eyes closed for more than five minutes at a time. It had been over 36 hours since Michelangelo had collapsed, and he hadn't woken up. Rebecca imagined that the mutated cells were enraged by the attempt to eradicate them, and were taking out all their aggression on the fragile landscape of the turtle's lungs.

She'd heard the docs continue to discuss Mike's blood oxygen count, and Becky recognized how unstable it was without anyone needing to tell her. Rebecca had barely left the room for more than a few minutes at a time, and repeatedly heard varying levels of oxygen being discussed between two or more of the medical hands. The mechanical ventilator remained in place to help him breathe, but she knew it couldn't convert the oxygen and carbon dioxide _for_ Mike, which was leaving him vulnerable despite the support.

She didn't care if she _was_ in the way of the doctors at this point - they could ask her to move. The steady hum of machines and the beeping of the monitor had become a kind of white noise that Rebecca barely noticed in the background, except when an alarm announced that Mike's oxygen levels were dropping again.

From her front row seat at the turtle's side, she was witness to exactly how many hours everyone was putting in. Luke, Marcus, and Donny were on a constant rotation keeping an eye on Mike, but Caleb had hardly left the third floor at all. She was sure the three hours of sleep the older man had relented too inside the Lab earlier that day was the only rest his eyes had seen. Rebecca hated the way Caleb was avoiding her gaze, as if everything happening to Mike was really his fault. From where she was sitting, it looked like a physical weight was resting on his shoulders as he was hunched over at the desk. Rebecca recalled the older man telling her that a lot of his equipment was automated, and didn't require his physical presence supervising it. Regardless of that, it didn't seem like he was going to be abandoning the desk for the second night in a row.

The young woman glanced at the thick book sitting on the end of the cot, and reached to retrieve the Bible. As it fell open in front of her, she leafed through delicate pages, skipping past the bookmark in the Psalms. She'd read through those passages for most of the day, and now she was looking for something different. When the book of Hebrews flashed by her, something twinged in her spirit, causing her to hesitate. Turning a couple more pages, Becky found herself face to face with first verse of the eleventh chapter.

_"Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things that we cannot see."_

Rebecca was about to continue reading the chapter, when she noticed the two letters that had been handwritten inside the margin next to the verse in question. _SW. Smith Wigglesworth. What was it my mom used to quote from him? _The young woman closed her eyes briefly as she tried to remember, visualizing her mother's voice in her mind. _"I am not moved by what I see. I am not moved...by what I feel. I am only moved by what I believe."_

Rebecca had been clinging to all of the faith she was capable of mustering, but fear was still clawing her heart in the midst of it. She repeated the quote in her mind a couple of times as she lay back down in the semi-darkness, trying to block the terror from getting a stronger foothold in her mind. As she rested her head against the pillow, she kept the olive-green Bible at her side.

The texture from the cover of the hard-back book was comforting underneath her fingers. The Bible had belonged to her mom before she'd passed away. The seam was starting to come apart from years of wear and tear, but Becky couldn't bring herself to part with the book. Reading the same Bible as her mother had made her feel like she still had a connection with a woman, as she skimmed passages the woman had highlighted, or read the notes she'd left behind.

She'd spent most of the day reading or in prayer when she wasn't distracted. The need for sleep was now tugging on Rebecca's mind, but she hadn't been able to force herself to let go yet. After waiting a few more minutes to see if she would be able to drift off, Becky sat up on the edge of the cot once more, resting a hand lightly against her stomach. Sometimes she was certain she'd felt the baby moving, but it was hard to tell if it was only her imagination or not.

_Where there's life, there's always hope._

Donatello had repeated those words a couple of times over the last 36 hours, and they comforted her for more than one reason tonight. _The baby is with us, and Mikey still is too. There's no call for panicking, no reason to fall apart, _she assured herself. Despite the valiant attempt to encourage her heart, fear and sorrow continued playing tug-of-war with her in the background.

The young woman rested her arms on the cot, and pushed off the mattress for leverage to get to her feet. She approached the turtle for the hundredth time that day, and rested a hand over his wrist. _You've got to hang in there for a couple of days, Mike. I know you can last through this. Whatever pain you're in, it isn't permanent. It will pass. Don't give up. None of us are letting you go that easily either._

Tears welled up as she stood there, conflicted between faith and fear. The hand that had been grasping his wrist stretched to touch the silken orange material of the turtle's mask. She longed to see his blue eyes looking back at her, dancing with the pure joy he'd had weeks ago when they'd found out they were going to be parents.

Rebecca didn't fight tears from falling, though she tried to stay silent. She didn't want Caleb to see her crumble. _I feel like he's in such a fragile state himself, if he sees me lose it, it will only make things worse. _The sudden concern of the man noticing her crying made Rebecca glance at him surreptitiously.

The bespectacled man was staring down at the desk, his glasses on the verge of falling off his nose altogether. The image of his forlorn figure moved Rebecca, and she found herself walking toward him before she had a chance to think about it.

"You _do_ realize he was sick before you got here, don't you?" she reminded him softly. "You're not the reason this is happening, Caleb."

The man shook his head. "I knew it would be difficult coming into it, that this particular type of tampering with genetics hasn't been attempted with a humanoid creature. Yet at the same time, I still feel as if I failed him, just like..."

"Like what?"

"Nothing," he replied shortly. "This isn't about her."

"It isn't about _who_, Caleb?"

"Susan. My twisted psyche keeps trying to bring her into this."

Becky sat down in another chair beside him. "I know how emotions and memories have a way of surfacing at inconvenient times, Caleb, but that doesn't mean you can't talk about them." She felt a little awkward as the words left her mouth. The young woman almost felt as if she was trying to advise an "elder" with what small wisdom she'd gleaned from her own experiences, and it felt presumptuous.

Caleb finally looked at her. "You would know better than me. You were extremely close with your family, weren't you?"

Becky nodded. "As close as any American family who's serving in a dangerous country with no one to depend on but themselves. But I don't need to talk about my family right now, Caleb. What's going through _your _head?"

When he didn't answer, Rebecca took a sharp breath. "Well, you haven't failed Mikey, and I have a hard time believing you failed your wife. Mike told me that she had cancer, didn't she? That _certainly_ wasn't your fault."

The older man twisted in his chair, sighing heavily. "Rebecca, it isn't that I blame myself for her cancer. But I should have noticed something, I should have recognized how sick she was getting. It's absurd. The signs were there, and I didn't pay attention to them. I was wrapped up in myself and my work. Susan was never one to complain, even when my research separated me from her for hours and days. I never met a more long suffering woman in my entire life. She was so good to me, and still supportive when I was locked inside my most obsessive state.

"But I didn't support her when she needed me the most. We were locked away on this stupid mountain, completely cut off from the rest of the world. In hindsight, it was so obvious that it's painful to think about. She started cutting down on the number of guests she was accepting at the Bed and Breakfast, and eventually shut it down completely. I should have realized what was happening before it got that far, but I was too selfish."

The man focused on the desk again. "I'll never be able to forgive myself for letting her down. By the time I got wise, the tumors had spread too far. She had...weeks left to live." He took a deep breath that shook with emotion. "She wasn't bitter. All Susan wanted to do was come back to Lotus Salvus, and spend every last minute she had on earth here on the mountain that she loved so much." Caleb sniffed as he paused for a few moments. "I never deserved her."

Rebecca hesitated, thinking hard before she spoke. "Caleb...you won't get anywhere by holding this over your head."

"How do you get over letting down the one person you promised to stand by forever?" he asked. "I realize I probably seem a little old to you, but I didn't picture losing Susan like that, not so soon. I thought I had time. Deep down I knew I was neglecting her, but I comforted myself with the knowledge that I was building a better life for both of us. I don't know why I thought that taking on this case with Mike would change something."

The woman cocked her head. "What did you think would change?"

Caleb laughed humorlessly. "In some ridiculous way, this was partially an attempt to redeem myself from some of my old mistakes. I'm doing a great job with that, huh?"

Rebecca felt a little frustrated. She didn't know what she could say to convince him of the appreciation she felt for everything that he'd done for them.

"Caleb, we had no hope at all until you got here. We wanted to believe that it would work out somehow, but we knew how slim Mike's chances really were. You took on an impossible case that offered no benefit to you, and you pushed your own projects aside. That doesn't sound selfish to me. If Susan could talk to you right now, I don't think she'd tell you to feel guilty for the rest of your life. I think she'd want you to be happy again."

A stray tear escaped his eye before he could brush it away, and Caleb pulled his glasses to set them on the desk. "I'm so sorry, Rebecca. You don't need to sit here comforting an old man."

"You need to talk to _someone_, whether it's me or somebody else. You also need to get some sleep. I think you're pushing yourself too hard, Caleb."

The man folded the bows of his glasses. "I'm not sure how much more my eyes can take tonight."

"You should take a breather...for like eight hours."

"_That's _not going to happen," he said firmly.

"Are you going to be inside your best frame of mind if you don't bother getting some real sleep?"

"Well..."

"And didn't Luke ask you to go wake him around 1am? That was well over an hour ago."

"The rest won't hurt him."

"_Caleb_."

The man got to his feet and shuffled a couple of steps forward. "All right, I'm going to get him; but only if you tell me that you're going to sleep too."

"I'll go back to my cot now. When you lay down your head, I want you to remember that you've been a hero to all of us over the last couple of months. Then you can wake up tomorrow, and be ready to hit the ground running."

"I'll do my best," he said wearily. "Good night, Rebecca."

After he'd gone, the curly-haired woman sank back down on the low cot, and swung her legs over the side. _Luke will be up here soon, and he'll keep a close eye on Mike. I really, _really_ need to get to sleep at some point._

On a whim she reached for the little zippered bag that housed her mp3 player, and took a few seconds to untangle the headphones. As the back light of the screen popped on, Rebecca began scrolling through a couple of different play-lists, before settling on a particular song from Matt Redman. She lay back down with the music player, closing her eyes as the music filled her ears.

_"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death_

_Your perfect love is casting out fear_

_And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life_

_I won't turn back, I know You are near_

_And I will fear no evil_

_For my God is with me_

_And if my God with me_

_Whom then shall I fear?_

_Whom then shall I fear?_

_Oh no, You never let go_

_Through the calm and through the storm_

_Oh no, You never let go_

_In every high and every low_

_Oh no, You never let go_

_Lord, You never let go of me..."_

The song lingered on the edge of her consciousness even as she felt herself drifting off, and fear was finally put to rest.


	84. Source

***Research rears it's complicated head again...and Caleb's solution is based on a real genetic discovery, that I happened upon by accident. There are so many promising things happening in the world of medicine.**

* * *

><p>Last night had been one of the only times in Donatello's remembrance that he'd actually drugged<em> himself <em>to get some sleep. He was against using the formulas for the function, except when it was absolutely necessary. If he didn't get some rest, the docs would forbid him from continuing to assist with Michelangelo.

_Not that I'm actually able to help him, _he thought bitterly. _I can't do anything but wait, and hope he'll hang in there long enough for the cells to mature. _The prospect of Caleb throwing that many iPs cells at his youngest brother at once was terrifying, and the purple-masked turtle hadn't hesitated to say so when the man asked for his opinion on the matter. _But what other choice do we have? The ventilator is helping _some_, but it can't reverse what's happening to his lungs. He won't last on that machine indefinitely, not with how weak he is._

As he slipped his legs over the side of the bed, Jenna immediately sat up.

"Are you going to Mike?" she asked.

He nodded mutely.

"I'll fix you something to eat, and bring it up in a few minutes." Jenna probably meant for it to sound like an offer, but there was a firm quality behind her tone that hinted at not taking no for an answer.

"All right, Jen." He turned to gaze at her before rising. "Did you sleep okay?"

"As well as I could," she answered. "Will it bother you if I join you for a while in the Lab today?"

"You don't have to ask my permission to see Mike, Jenna. You're free to hang out there."

"I want to be there for _both_ of you," she clarified.

Donatello heard the implied question without her being forced to ask. _Are you going to let me near you without a fight?_

"Whenever you're ready, you can c'mon up," he told her.

As he left the room the hallway felt cold and silent, far removed the environment it had been only a few days ago over Thanksgiving. Donatello took a moment to collect himself from the emotional state that was threatening, hesitating at the bottom of the stairs that led to the third floor. He ascended to the Lab, leaning heavily on the banister as he made his way up the stairs.

He peered into the room at the top, and saw Luke sitting at the desk. The man wasn't actively working; he simply appeared to be watching over Mike and a sleeping Rebecca. The turtle silently entered the Lab, raising a hand to greet Luke. Donatello stopped at the fridge to grab a bottle of water to slake his thirst, and headed toward the desk.

Luke's probing gaze took him in for a couple of seconds before the man softened. "You look better today," he commented.

Don nodded, right before downing nearly three-quarters of the water at once. Sedation usually had the effect of drying him out, and leaving the turtle with an excessive thirst afterward.

"Did you drug yourself?" Luke asked knowingly.

"It was the only way I could_ stay _asleep," he admitted. Donatello had been exhausted enough to fall asleep, but remaining that way had been problematic.

"I think it was a good call," Luke agreed. "Have you eaten?"

"Jen's going to bring something up. How is everything in here? Do we know anything new about Mike?"

"His oxygen content is at 90% this morning."

"Which is considerably better than 70%," Don allowed. "But it's still in a life-threatening range. Do you think that's why the coma is persisting?"

"I don't know. If I had to guess, I'd attribute it to his blood oxygen level, but there's no way to be sure, Donny. We're still in unchartered waters, flailing our arms and just trying to stay afloat."

Donatello looked over his shoulder at the depressing image of his younger brother underneath the ventilator. There were more things that he wanted to ask Luke, but he wasn't sure how to express them in the best way. In the end he broke away from Mike without saying anything, and focused on Rebecca instead.

"How's Becky been?"

"She was asleep when I got here, Don. I see that as being a good thing. She's also going to need to eat and do other things eventually."

"I can ask Jen to get on her. She's pretty good at getting people to do things," Donatello offered.

"Why don't you do that?" Luke looked at the young woman briefly, and lowered his voice further. "I was worried about how the stress might affect her for the baby's sake, but we couldn't very well kick her out of the Lab, could we?"

The turtle shook his head. "Not that I can see. Why don't you go check in with _your_ girls, Doc? I'm here to man the fort."

Luke's eyes lingered on the orange-masked turtle, then looked toward the door. It was clear he didn't want to leave. "We're pumping as much oxygen into him as we can, Don. I really don't know what else to do except wait. We need to get the new stem cells implanted, and hope for the best result."

"And it doesn't 'take' right away," Donatello said softly. "Even once the cells are in place, they have to acclimate, they need time to transform...there are so many steps to fulfill." He clenched a hand tightly against his temples. "Do you think he's strong enough to hold on?"

It was the one thing he'd wanted to ask Luke from the beginning of the episode, but he could barely bring himself to speak the words out loud. He felt guilty for even bringing the question to Luke, and forcing the man to give him a completely honest prognosis.

Luke had been on the verge of rising, but now he settled further into the chair. He was quiet for a few moments before he answered him. "From a professional's stand-point, it doesn't look good, Don. You already know that. When the lungs shut down, many times the rest of the body follows. We're dealing with a case where we're a little helpless, because we can't complete the gas exchange in his lungs. He could stop breathing entirely, even though he's on the ventilator. It's not a long term solution for him.

"If I was only thinking along the lines of a doctor with a random patient, I would tell the family that they need to be prepared for the likelihood that their loved one might not be coming around again. That being said, I've seen you guys come back from more disasters than a normal person could ever survive. The first night I ever saw_ you_, I didn't think you were going to make it, Donny. But you proved me wrong, and all of you have consistently beaten the odds ever since. I don't know what's going to happen with Mike, but I know your brother wants to live. That tells me he's not going to quit if he has any say in the matter."

"I don't want to stop believing he'll make it either, Doc, I guess I'm just..." Don cut off when he noticed Rebecca stirring. As she turned her head toward him, he saw the young woman grimace in pain.

Luke rapidly got to his feet and went to her side. "Becky, are you okay? Can you sit up?"

"I'm fine," she said softly. "My back is hurting again."

The young woman brushed wild curls off to the side of her head as she scooted to the edge of the mattress.

"You need to get out of this room for a while, Becky," Luke said carefully. "The cot isn't doing you any favors, and you need to eat a real meal. You can come back, I promise."

"I want to be here if he wakes up..." she faltered.

"Becky, none of us can stay on his shell constantly, and you shouldn't either," Don told her. "The added stress and pain isn't good for you or the baby. You're carrying another life that's being impacted by everything you're experiencing."

Becky nodded. "I guess...I have to take care of myself a little bit, don't I?"

Donatello heard distinct footsteps, and instantly recognized them. _Jen's got good timing, _he thought inwardly.

As it turned out, the raven-haired woman wasn't alone. Luke shook his head as Caleb meandered over to the desk.

"I really don't think you could have gotten enough sleep," Luke chided the older man.

"I got an idea, and I have to get to work on it," Caleb replied.

Donatello studied the older man with interest, recognizing the excitement he was fighting to contain. "Tell us," Don said immediately.

"I'm not there yet, Donatello. I have to check some things before I'm even sure-"

"Bounce it off us anyway," Luke interrupted.

Jenna laid a hand on Rebecca's shoulder, tugging the young woman to her feet. "Let's get something to eat, Becky. Then you can get a shower, and come on back."

Jen had also left breakfast for the purple-masked turtle on the desk, but he was much too wrapped up in what Caleb could be on the verge of to think about food.

"I've realized something about these mutated cells," Caleb said slowly. "All along I've been treating Mike as if this was a defect that only concerned your particular genetic structure, not even taking into account how much you have in common with humans. When I made that connection, it occurred to me that a similar type of event can affect human stem cells when they're becoming cancerous. Numerous studies have indicated that cancer in the lungs_ isn't_ the result of a sudden transformation in cells, but a multi-step process in which a series of molecular changes influence the gene, and cause morphogenesis.

"We don't understand very much about the actual sequence yet, but in recent years several researchers have been paying a lot of attention to the Wnt signaling pathway in the lungs. The pathway plays a crucial role both in the development and regulation of adult stem cells. A variety of cellular processes are controlled by the pathway, such as signaling the cells to proliferate, among other things.

"When the normal regulation of the pathway is lost, it's been shown to promote the development of several types of cancerous cells. Some studies have been able to determine that using a targeted inhibitor against the Wnt pathway sending the errant signals to the stem cells can lead to a decrease in the morphogenesis taking place."

"So...what are you saying exactly?" Don asked. "Do you think the Wnt pathway has significance to the cells that are mutating in _our _case?"

"The theory I'm operating under is that the mutations occurring in your cells _aren't _happening spontaneously. It's a process that builds over a number of years, through the skewed signals being supplied by the pathway. When enough of the cells have experienced a morphogenesis to wreak havoc on the alveolus, the condition becomes acute. If this theory is correct, it would provide us with the perfect means with which to address the mutating stem cells in the rest of you, _before_ you even get sick.

"I'm guessing that the very receptor blocker that you and Luke designed to trick Mike's t-cells may have the ability to disrupt and inhibit the signals being sent from the Wnt pathway, thereby shutting down the instructions that are ordering cells to mutate."

Donatello literally felt goose bumps rising on the surface of his skin. "If you're right, if this pathway is the source of the errant cells...then no one else would need to go through the stem cell therapy that Mike is receiving?"

"Not if we catch it early enough."

"What about Mike?" Luke interjected. "Could inhibiting his pathway have any effect on the mutated cells that are already in play?"

"I don't know, but it's worth trying," Caleb replied honestly. "All of this is conjecture, mind you...But it seems like it would add up, based on what I've already seen. Your receptor blocker may need some additional tweaking, but I'd like to try directing it toward the Wnt pathway to see how it impacts the molecules." Caleb's brow furrowed, and his eyes widened in a way that indicated he'd just realized something.

"This could be the answer for why the iPs cells died so quickly!" he exclaimed with sudden fervency. "In their free-form state, they would have been vulnerable to the signals _coming_ from the Wnt pathway! The cells that we injected directly into the lining of his lungs had somewhere to put down roots, and a good opportunity to develop into new tissue without the interference of the signals. But our first line of the offensive strike against the mutated cells never even had a chance! We've got to take out the _head_ of the army, the one who's actually calling the shots." The older man slammed his fist against his palm to excitedly emphasize his point.

"That's a brilliant way of putting it, Caleb." Luke was on his feet, unable to sit any longer.

"Saying is easier than _doing_," he replied. "Are you guys on board with me? The newer sets of iPs cells ought to be ready to be implanted as soon as tomorrow and I'd like to have the receptor blocker in place within the Wnt pathway before then."

"Absolutely," Luke said quickly. "Don and I will get it up to speed." The blond doctor turned to the turtle. "_Eat_, Donny. We have a lot to do, and you need energy."

Luke didn't have to tell him twice. Donatello was so excited he wasn't sure if_ he _could sit long enough to finish the omelet Jenna had made for him, but he focused on the plate with precision until the food was gone. Part of him wanted to run downstairs and shout to the entire household that they had something new to go on, but Donny forced himself to hold his peace.

_Slow down, Don, you have to slow down. Nothing is certain yet. There's a lot to do in a short amount of time, so you need to keep your head on straight and not go off the deep end._

Donatello watched Caleb for a few seconds as the man logged into the special image mapping software that depicted a clearer vision of Michelangelo's lungs. He cast a quick glance at Luke behind another computer, before going up behind the older man.

"Caleb, if you're right about this Wnt pathway being the source of the mutating cells, you're going to need to test the inhibitor against me too," he said quietly. "We can't ignore the evidence of cell growth within Leo or myself, and even Raph, though he has the lowest count of occurrences. It makes sense to use me, since I have the second highest ratio of the cells after Mike."

Caleb looked over his shoulder. "From where I'm sitting it makes sense too, Donatello, and I'll keep it in mind. First we have to get through today and tomorrow with your younger brother."


	85. Night Watchers

Leonardo found himself silently watching the clock, for no real reason. There wasn't anything he could accomplish at 3:30 in the morning, and yet some sense of urgency wouldn't allow him to sleep. The_ third _wave of the stem cell treatment had taken place the day before, in addition to the new procedure that Caleb was devising to deal with the so called "Wnt pathway." The man theorized that signals still operating through the pathway had inhibited the second wave of iPs cells from doing their jobs correctly.

Leonardo understood enough of the medical speech to feel cautiously optimistic, but he also realized that the transplant itself wasn't an instantaneous fix. The new stem cells needed time to make themselves at home and overcome the defective cells that were still at large.

Calley was leaning against him, so moving without waking her would be difficult. Leonardo decided it was worth the risk rather than lying there uselessly. The blue-masked turtle carefully disengaged from her comforting body heat, and the young woman immediately rolled over toward him.

"Leo? Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "I just can't sleep. I'm going to sit with Mikey for a while."

"Do you mind if I come?"

He shook his head. "No. It's all right, Calley."

The young woman rose and unhooked the robe that was hanging on the back of the bedroom door. She wrapped the soft terry-cloth material around her nightgown, and nodded at Leonardo to go first into the hall. The turtle didn't even feel tired as he traversed the length of the hall with a renewed energy in his step that struck him as ironic.

He led the way through the darkness without bothering to turn on a light, and continued upstairs to the Lab. Leonardo pushed open the door slowly, and he saw Marcus hunched over a notebook, scribbling something furiously across the page. Becky was fast asleep on the cot, but Leo was careful not to make any noise as he walked across the floor. He sidled up to the desk and was about to speak to Marcus, when the man jolted so hard he almost fell out of his chair.

Leonardo swiftly steadied the human and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I didn't want to disturb Becky."

"One of you is going to give me a heart attack someday," Marcus exclaimed under his breath, but then gave Leonardo and Calley a warm smile. "What are you two doing up?"

"It's my fault," Leo admitted. "I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't get up without waking _her_. We just want to stay with Mike for a while. Is that okay?"

"This isn't a hospital, Leo, and we don't have posted visiting hours. Stay as long as you want, just keep an eye out for Becky and make sure she isn't disturbed," Marcus replied.

"Thanks, Marc." Leonardo located two chairs and wheeled them both closer to where his baby brother had been lying for four days now, as unresponsive as when Donatello had carried him up to the Lab.

As he gazed at Michelangelo, he reminded himself of the new hope that Caleb had acquired for them. He reached to grasp one of his brother's hands, but turned his head when he felt Calley's gaze.

"I want to believe that this is a turning point for him," he told her. "I wish everything didn't take so much time to accomplish."

Calley nodded. "Waiting is the hardest part for all of us. But if he lasted this long in the condition he was in...Leo, I have to believe that he'll get through it."

The blue-masked turtle rested his chin in his free hand. "I_ hate _that he had to be the one to go down this hard, not that I'd enjoy watching it happen to anyone else either."

"_All_ of you would rather be the one suffering than the one watching someone else do it," Calley replied. "But things are the way they are, Leo. For the most part, Mike stayed true to himself during this entire process, and that proves to me the strength he has inside him."

He nodded vigorously. "All of my brothers have always had their individual strengths, and their own ways of marching to a drum beat. I have to confess that it irritated me when we were younger. Sensei said 'jump', and I was ready to leap twice as high as he'd requested, but them...They did things differently. My brothers were obedient to Sensei and good students, for the _most_ part," he added wryly. "Seriously though, they worked extremely hard, they just didn't follow the most traditional approach like I did. I found that Sensei was adapting techniques and lessons to fit them, when I thought it should have been the other way around.

"In a way, I felt like there was one standard for me, and one for everyone else. I always thought Sensei expected so much more out of me than the others, and I strove to deliver it. I thought my brothers had a much easier time of it...and I can admit that I resented them for it. It took several years for me to get it through my thick skull that Sensei _had _to deal with us differently, and that I wasn't being singled out with the expectation of perfection.

"By that time there were already cracks and strains in my relationships with my brothers, which left me feeling like an even bigger failure. I made a lot of mistakes growing up, Calley, and plenty more after I tried to take the reins when we lost Sensei."

Calley sat up straighter. "I know the truth about that transition, Leo - the others told me everything in detail. You were one of the only things that held the family together."

Leonardo shook his head. "To be honest, I've never been sure how I did. Shell, there were days when I didn't want to get up myself, let alone try to encourage someone else. But I was afraid of losing sight of the others, or creating another rift that would ultimately destroy what balance we had left."

"You focus too much on your mistakes, Leo. You've told_ me _a thousand times that we can't change our past; we can only learn from it. I don't know if you'll ever understand what you really mean to this team."

"It isn't just me, Calley. It's all of us working together through our differences, our weaknesses and our strengths. Somehow we complete each other, like fitting together the pieces of a puzzle. We're all unique, but it adds up to one picture. Losing part of the puzzle would be like losing part of _ourselves_. I only wish I'd learned to appreciate the pieces earlier on." Leonardo stopped to gaze at his brother again.

"It's so unreal to see him this way. Mikey was-" Leo caught himself, and immediately corrected. "Mike's the ultimate example of vitality and life. He was always one of the last ones to wear out in a fight, even if he'd been getting his shell kicked. It didn't seem to matter if he went down ten times in a row, he was jumping back up like a jackrabbit, wanting to continue. He's got tenacity and a stubborn streak in him that rivals Raphael's, he just tempers it differently. Being around Mike for ten minutes is better than Prozac." Leo grinned, even as tears stung his eyes.

"The thought of not having him around makes me think of a world where the warmth of the sun is never felt. In my own selfish way, I don't want to live in that world. I don't want to know what it would be like to go without his smile, his constant teasing of Raph, or the way he...He builds up everyone around him, even at his own expense. Isn't it amazing how I can find a way to make all of this about _me_?" he asked humorlessly.

"I think you're experiencing natural emotions, Leo, and you don't need to berate yourself for them," she replied.

Calley's arms encircled his neck, and he turned his chair to accept her embrace. He enjoyed the comfort of being near her for the following moments, without burdening himself to speak.

"Thank you for letting me come with you," she said into his ear.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I wasn't sure. Leo, you've been a little...distant, particularly in the evenings. I know there are some things you're not ready to talk about, and I'm not going to push you. I'm just grateful you let me in _tonight."_

"Calley, I'm sorry," he breathed in return. "Some of it is related to Mike, and other things..." The shadowy memory of the Akiudo that constantly tried to reassert itself in his mind taunted him. "I'm unsettled, and I'm not dealing with it correctly," he finally said. "I'm not trying to push you away or hold you at a distance. I'll do better with this, I promise."

"I love you, Leo. I only want to be there for you the same way you've been there for me, if it's humanly possible."

The blue-masked turtle guided her face toward him, and relished in her scent as she rested her forehead against his. "You_ are _there for me," he said. "You've kept me sane through the last couple of months, in ways you probably don't even realize."

She bent her head to kiss him and he returned it gratefully, marveling at how patient the young woman was being about the wedge he'd been unintentionally driving between them. Leo was caught up in the feeling of her soft lips, and was not prepared for Calley to jerk away from him.

He opened his eyes in surprise. "What's wrong?"

The young woman was on her feet, staring at Michelangelo. "I'm sure I felt something, like he's right on the edge, Leo. You should talk to him."

"No, not me," Leonardo said quickly. "Wake Becky up!"

Calley nodded and moved toward the curly-haired woman while Leo got to his feet to address Marcus.

"He could be waking up, Marc!"

The man tapped a couple of keys on the keyboard in front of him, and studied a read-out of numbers that may as well have been in Portuguese for as much as Leonardo understood them.

"His own breaths per minute are increasing," the man said suddenly. "I need to watch for a couple more minutes to make sure of where his lungs stand. Look for other signs of awareness, Leo!"

Leonardo stood by his youngest brother's side, but left room for Rebecca to get in closer as she staggered drowsily away from the cot. In the time it took her to walk the distance, it looked like she became firmly awake.

"Mikey?" she called encouragingly. "Mike, do you hear me?"

Even Leonardo could detect the fact that the orange-masked turtle's chest was rising out of sync with the ventilator, indicating that he was _trying _to breathe on his own.

"_Okimasu, watashi no ai_." (Open your eyes, my love.) Rebecca rested a hand on Mike's forehead, and the turtle _definitely _moved.

"Marcus!" Leonardo barked more loudly than he'd intended. He clapped a hand over his mouth at the insolence of disturbing the process unfolding in front of him.

Michelangelo's eyes slid open as if in slow motion, blinking rapidly before they appeared to focus on anything. Leonardo saw the clear discomfort in his brother's face as he shifted his neck and tried to swallow.

"Mike, it's okay," Becky reassured him. "You're going to be okay. Just stay calm."

His blue eyes conveyed the questions he was incapable of verbalizing with the tube still in his trachea, but the lines in his face relaxed after a moment. Mike actually smiled as Becky caressed his forehead.

"It's not polite of you to keep me waiting," she said teasingly, and Leonardo sensed Rebecca was trying to keep him relaxed while Mike fought to get his bearings as to what was going on.

The orange-masked turtle's arm flopped suddenly toward him, and Leonardo instinctively caught Mike's wrist. "Welcome back, bro. No more vacations for awhile, okay? It's too boring around here without you."

Mike gave him a slight nod which communicated his cluelessness effectively as Marcus joined them.

"Hey, buddy," Marc greeted him. "I need to test a couple of things with you, then maybe we'll see about getting the stupid tube out of your throat. You'd like that, huh?"

Mike nodded again, but his eyes traveled back to Leonardo, who was still gripping his wrist.

"I'm sorry, Mikey," Leo apologized. "You won't be getting your hand back for a while."


	86. Grateful

The irritation of spending a lot of time on supplemental oxygen only lasted a couple of days before Michelangelo started getting used to it. He was simply thankful by the time the docs actually let him _out_ of the Lab. Despite the inconvenience of being on oxygen, he had to admit that his chest was feeling better than it had in months. His energy, however, hadn't come close to rebounding. Mike felt weaker now than he had _before_ the so called, "episode", but it was about two weeks before Christmas, he was surrounded by his family, and he was happy to be alive.

Mike had been resting in the recliner under a heavy fleece blanket, until he heard the distinctive shuffle that accompanied Raphael's crutches. He opened his eyes just as his red-masked brother was entering the Great Room.

"Hey, pip-squeak," Raphael greeted him as affectionately as only he could. "Good to see ya out of that Lab."

Mike nodded. "It's good to see you on your feet, Bro. Sort of."

Raphael grinned as he leaned on the crutches, noticeably avoiding putting pressure on his left leg. "I'm doing pretty good with 'em, they're just difficult to maneuver on the stairs. Marc thinks I've still a couple months left before my bum leg is completely healed."

"It's better than it was though, right? How's the pain been?"

Raphael shrugged. "There are still some nerve issues, at least, that's what Marc calls them. But he seems to think that will clear up too, as more time goes by. I'm about as lucky as ever, huh? I was really wondering in the beginning if I'd _ever_ be able to use this leg again."

Mike smiled as gratitude rose in his spirit. He could focus on the things that were still off with him and his brother, or he could choose to be thankful that the things were finally looking better in the big picture. For him, it was no contest. Raphael was getting the use of both legs back, Rebecca was holding on to the baby, and according to the docs, they'd reached a pivotal place in their battle against the condition that had tried to take his life.

The best feeling came from knowing that the probable source of all the bad cells had been rooted out, and neither his brothers nor Olivia would ever have to come as close to dying as he had. _And neither will my kid, _he thought with satisfaction. _My_ kid_. I can't believe it's really happening, and I'm gonna be around for it. _As much as he'd tried to cling to the hope of the docs being able to help him, nagging doubt had always existed in the back of Mike's mind. Even tied to the oxygen tank the way he was now, he felt freer than he had in a long time.

When the front door came open, Mike craned his neck around to see Greg leading the way inside. The man had returned to North Carolina with Tim and Victoria a couple of days early, sooner than they'd originally planned. Mike had assured Greg over the phone that it wasn't necessary for them to rush, but the man wasn't listening to any of his objections.

Mike grinned as Greg and Brandon sauntered across the room together, reminding him very much of the same old roommates on the verge of getting into trouble as they'd always been. _Everyone has been acting more like themselves over the last few days, _he realized. _It's like a giant cloud has been lifted, and people can finally breathe again._

"So when are you going to tell us this news you have?" Raphael asked Greg. "It's really not nice to announce you've got something important to tell us, and then refuse to say anything until we're all together. It's just Mike and me, Heff. We can keep a secret."

Greg snorted. "I promised Tim I'd wait for them. He and Victoria will be back on the mountain by this afternoon, and that's when we're telling everyone. End of discussion."

Raphael shook his head. "You're no fun anymore."

"I guess I'm going to have to live with that," Greg returned, then looked at Michelangelo. "How's it feel to have a new lease on life?"

Mike smiled. "I'll let you know when I get to take it out for a spin."

"Do you need anything?" the man asked more seriously. "Your wish is my command."

"Heff, you don't have to feel guilty 'cause you weren't here." Mike was exasperated. "You couldn't have done anything even if you_ were _here."

"But being hundreds of miles away when you were dying...Mike, it wasn't easy."

"It wasn't fun to be two floors underneath it either," Raphael said morosely.

"Hey, you guys," Mike said sternly. "That's behind us, okay? Caleb's had a lot of encouraging things to say. I know the oxygen tank doesn't look so good, but it's temporary. The docs only think I'm going to need it while my lung tissue is healing from the overload of those mutated cells trying to take over. It was like 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' up in here."

His red-masked brother gave him a sharp look. "If you could have seen yourself, you wouldn't think it was funny, bone-head."

Michelangelo looked down at the floor. _I _don't _know how hard it was on everybody...I guess I've got to be a little more sensitive._

"Sorry, Raphy, I'm just happy, that's all. I get to live. Isn't that a good enough reason for me to be laughing?"

Raphael nodded. "Yeah,_ I'm _sorry, bro. I'm not trying to bite your head off."

"I'm used to you, Raph." Mike grinned again as he scanned the rest of the room.

The Christmas lights seemed brighter than they had days ago, when they'd first strung them not only from the tree, but also the rafters. The turtle couldn't resist looking up at the twinkling lights that were arrayed almost like stars in the sky over his head. He felt like laughing, even as he was on the verge of tears. He'd been fighting with the strange ailment for so many months, that the idea of having a leg up on it didn't feel like reality yet.

"Mike?" Brandon's voice summoned him out of contemplation.

The orange-masked turtle sniffed as he turned toward the man. "Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yes." Mike glanced around to include Raphael and Greg. "I'm great. I'm _happy_."

Brandon grinned as if _he_ was about to burst. "Me too, Mike. Happier than I've been in a long time."

* * *

><p>Mike dozed in his chair over the course of the morning, partially out of exhaustion, but also because of a touch of boredom. It was difficult to sit around and wait for the others to get back to Lotus Salvus. Deep down, he was just as eager to hear Greg's news as Raphael was, and the suspense could have driven him crazy if he allowed it to.<p>

When he opened his eyes, he discovered that Tiger had wedged herself into his lap without him realizing it. The turtle chuckled, scratching under the feline's chin. When Mike pulled his hand away, Tiger raised her head in a clear signal that she wanted him to continue.

"Mi-kee!" a small voice squealed from the door, and he jerked his head up to see Reina toddling toward his chair. "Mi-kee, Mik-ee!"

A surge of joy lit through him like electricity as the little girl patted the arm of the recliner, asking to be picked up. Tiger arched her back and jumped down from the chair as Katherine headed that direction too. The woman held Reina out to Mike, casting a look at his oxygen tank.

"I'll keep an eye on her, Mike. I don't want her to hurt anything."

"She's okay, Kat. Since when does she say my name?"

"Since _now _I suppose." Katherine laughed. "I'm not surprised. Reina loves her some Uncle Mikey."

The orange-masked turtle kissed the baby's forehead as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Is she tired?"

"She fell asleep in the car," Kat replied. "She'll probably be hungry in a few minutes here."

"Mommy knows best, huh?" Mike embraced the baby before offering her back to Kat.

He felt someone else's eyes resting on him, and looked around until he found Rebecca gazing at him steadily.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked.

"Like a rock," he answered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to miss you."

"I had plenty of things to keep me busy."

"Not too busy, right? You gotta take it easy for the baby."

Rebecca smiled as she walked over to him. "No, the girls fixed me up with things to do from the table. They seem to be under the impression that I'm not capable of standing anymore."

Mike took her hand and kissed it dramatically, adoring the way she tossed her curls as she giggled. _I can't believe I get to have her for myself._

"Let's huddle up, everybody!"

Leonardo's authoritative voice suddenly reminded Mike that he and Becky weren't alone.

"The others have news to share," Leonardo reminded everyone in earshot.

Michelangelo felt a couple of butterflies as family and friends filtered into the room. He had to chuckle at himself. _After all the anticipation that's been building, I sure hope this news is worth it._

Tim and Greg were having a discussion amongst the two of them, and it took them another moment to jointly face the room.

"There was really only one specific reason that I wanted to stay in New York for a few days," Greg started. "And I didn't tell any of you what it was, because I didn't want to face any arguments about it. To make a long story short, Tim and I headed underground when we got back to the city after Thanksgiving." He paused to allow time for the collective gasp to die. "We understand that it was risky, given the fact that the state of the earth hasn't completely settled down, seismologically speaking. But we couldn't stand the suspense of not knowing, and we didn't want you guys to have to wonder about your home either."

"Then don't keep us waiting, Heff!" Raphael's voice was high and tight. "What did you find? Was there anything left?"

Greg exchanged a maddening look with Tim before continuing. "The Den is still standing. There's significant damage to certain areas, namely Don's Lab-"

"I know all about that, Heff," the purple-masked turtle interrupted. "You were able to get inside okay?"

Greg nodded. "The seals on the door were still intact. None of the water from the flooding even penetrated the space. There's a lot of clean up to do, but there's no reason you wouldn't be able to go back. Tim and I took a couple of extended trips down there to winterize the pipes, so they don't freeze up when it gets too cold."

Mike was amazed by the strong sense of relief that washed over him in the blink of an eye. _It's funny to think that we're already in Paradise, and I'm grateful that we're going to be able to live underground again. Something doesn't add up here, _he thought impishly. The orange-masked turtle looked around the room to gauge the reactions of everyone else, and was pleased by the genuinely glad reception the news received. _It's amazing how attached we are to the city. This is the best Christmas present I could have asked for...Well, one of the best._

He reached for Rebecca's hand again, squeezing it reassuringly. She returned his grip as the room exploded with additional questions that Mike wasn't interested in listening to. While he watched her, Becky's expression suddenly registered surprise, then joy.

"Mike, you have to feel this," she urged him, drawing the turtle's hand over to press it against her stomach.

Mike tensed, hoping he'd be able to feel whatever she was trying to show him. In an unexpected flash he felt the kick under his fingers.

"Shell, he's already practicing ninjutsu in there. That _is_ the baby, isn't it?"

Becky laughed exuberantly. "Yes, it's the baby. I've never felt it so strongly before! I guess he's as happy as I am."

If any more emotion welled up inside him, Michelangelo felt like he was going to explode out of his skin. It was overwhelming, frightening, and exciting, all at the same time. "We get to go home," he said. "We're gonna have our baby."

She nodded eagerly, and he was enveloped in the warmth of her smile. For that minute, they_ were _the only two inside the room.

_Technically three, _he added.

"I can't wait to meet our baby, Mike," Rebecca said. "He's going to be raised in the most loving home that ever existed."

"I don't know if I can keep Raph away from him_ forever_, Beck. He's going to want to meet his niece or nephew eventually," Mike cracked.

"_What_ are you saying about me?" the red-masked turtle spoke up.

"Nothing, Raphy, nothing at all."


	87. Empty Place

***One review away from breaking 400? Are you guys trying to make me jump for joy, because it's going to work. ;) It's been quite a ride, and we still have a little ways to go before we close. Have to wrap up one story before Watchmen can _officially_ begin. Thanks for coming with me along the way.**

* * *

><p>As much as Donatello enjoyed the time he spent with family and friends, he was also thankful when everything calmed down. The house was quieter now than it had been in months, given that it was also more empty. All of their wives had made a return trip to Asheville to both shop for food, and complete unspecified Christmas business. They wouldn't be returning until the next day, granting a much different environment than they were used to.<p>

Katherine had come to retrieve both Reina and Olivia, leaving the guys to relax on their own for the evening. "The Grinch who stole Christmas" was on TV in the background, but none of the turtles had been paying much attention to it. From Donatello's position, it looked like Raphael was half asleep.

"Hey, Raph, do you need to go to bed?" he asked.

The red-masked turtle looked up. "Nah, I'm just comfortable."

"Do either of you need anything?" Don glanced between Raphael and Mike, who was taking a break from the supplemental oxygen.

"You're gonna have to get used to treating us like _brothers_ instead of patients pretty soon, Donny." Mike chuckled.

The purple-masked turtle gave him a wry smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Don't give him any ideas, Mikey," Raphael hissed. "Just take what you can get and be happy about it."

Donatello's gaze fell on Leonardo, who was staring almost hypnotically at the flames in the hearth.

"Leo?" he called curiously.

His oldest brother turned to him with a wistful expression. "Yes?"

"What are you thinking? You haven't said much since Greg told us about our home being intact."

Leonardo sat up further from his relaxed position, resting both feet on the floor. The blue-masked turtle glanced down the line at the rest of them before speaking. "I'm relieved, I really am. I think part of me was afraid that someone would be disappointed to go back."

As Leo's eyes lingered on him, Donatello recalled the conversation that they'd had during the first outing from Lotus Salvus.

"It's a weird feeling," Don allowed. "We're free here. We can come and go as we please, and not worry about people finding us. But at the same time..." He hesitated, searching for words. "It's kind of empty, isn't it?"

Leonardo nodded. "That's exactly what I would have said. We could have this life if we wanted it. Luke has basically made it _our_ call to stay or go. While I would relish the idea of seeing the sunlight every day and experiencing the free world...All of the beauty surrounding us isn't enough to satisfy me forever. I'm not ready to retire."

"Neither are we," Raphael piped up. "This wasn't some choice we had, Leo. We needed a place to go."

"No, Raph, you don't understand," Don said swiftly. "Leo and I talked about this issue when we first arrived. We were just picturing what it would be like to stay here and not have to struggle anymore."

The red-masked turtle looked at him like he'd lost it. "Shell, I'd go crazy. We all need a break every now and then, but I don't wanna be forced to commute to dispense a desperately needed beat-down."

Michelangelo laughed, nodding in agreement. "Seriously. What's the point of _having_ these skills if we don't use 'em?"

Leonardo grinned at the youngest turtle. "I couldn't say it better myself. This is something all four of us want then?"

Don nodded for everyone's benefit. "Someone might call us fools for essentially taking our lives in our hands, but it doesn't sound like any of us are ready to settle down from the vigilante lifestyle."

"It doesn't hurt to have a nice place to escape to every now and then," Raphael suggested. "It'd be nice to come back when I could enjoy it...Mikey too."

"Well, Doc isn't getting rid of it," Don volunteered. "It's been firmly cemented as a second home...at least those are the words he used to describe it the other day."

"When would we be going back?" Mike wondered.

Leonardo looked at Donatello to supply the answer.

"We're not ready to go back _yet," _Donatello stated evenly. "We need to finish your course with the stem cells, Mike, and Caleb needs to experiment with _me_. It would also be nice to allow Raph's leg time to fully heal, and give the earth a couple more months to settle down from its activity. My initial thought was to return to New York in the Spring. We're already here, so we may as well stick out the winter, and let nature take its healing course. That would still put us back home before Becky has the baby."

A smile lit on Don's face as he looked at Mike. "She's doing well, Bro. You should be really proud of her."

"I _am_," he emphasized. "She's been so strong through all of this. Sometimes, I don't know where I would have been without her."

"Sounds like the start of your speech for the 'husband of the year' award." Raphael snickered.

Mike looked at Donatello, who was currently sitting right next to the red-masked turtle on the couch. "Hey, Donny, would you help a guy out?" He gestured toward Raphael.

"Yeah, sure, Mikey." Donatello swatted his open palm across the back of Raphael's head, and laughed at the way he'd managed to startle him.

"My reach is farther than you know," Mike teased.

Raphael gave Donny a dirty look, which didn't feel completely real. "Be careful, Genius. Be really careful."

"Who'd have thought that we'd end up in a place like this?" Leonardo ventured, bringing the conversation back down to earth. "Sometimes these last few months feel like a dream."

"For _you _maybe." Raphael snorted.

"You know what I mean, Raph. Parts of this experience won't be easy to let go of...but at the same time, I can't get New York out of my mind," Leo said. "I'm glad I'm not the only one."

"C'mon, Fearless, did you think we could bail on the city that quickly? Those National Guards guys aren't gonna stick around forever, and all those criminals are going to crawl out of the cracks they're hiding in." Raphael smirked. "I can't wait to start rounding them back up."

Donatello shook his head. When they'd first arrived in the Blue Ridge Mountains, he'd expected to feel more conflicted about this decision when it came time to make it than he did now. He was surprised to find himself yearning for the city streets as much as his brothers were, and the dark but comfortable conditions of their underground home.

_Shell, I'm going to have to rebuild my Lab though, and I won't be able to put that off with the baby coming. I'm going to need pretty much all new equipment, I have to restock on practically every formula...At least I can begin that part down here..._The thought trailed off as he felt Leonardo watching him.

"You look like your wheels are turning," the-blue masked turtle said.

"They are," he replied. "I'm going to have a lot to do to get ready for the baby, and I'm going to be starting from scratch."

"We have help," Leo said confidently. "And anything we can do, we're there for you, Don, every step of the way."

Donatello grinned and sighed contentedly. _Home - what a thought. It feels like we've traveled a hundred thousand miles since we left...but we'll be back before we know it._

* * *

><p>The purple-masked turtle was sitting at the kitchen table alone, at least as far as other people were concerned. Both of the border collies were curled up on the floor nearby, and he was savoring another cup of coffee in solitude before he went upstairs to the Lab to input some new notes in his Journal.<p>

_Boy, Mikey has given rise to a few more chapters over the last couple of months. It's hard to believe there's less than two weeks before Christmas, _he mused. He took a slow sip of the dark liquid, breathing in the fragrance of the brew appreciatively. _This is probably the first time I've gotten my _own_ coffee in about eight weeks._

He looked down as he felt something brush his leg, and found Molly resting her chin on his foot. "Silly girl. I can't keep you warm; you'd be better off lying with your buddy over there." Don motioned toward Noah, but she wasn't budging. "You guys are going to have to go to bed soon. You can't come inside the Lab with me," he reminded them.

The third floor was literally the only place that was off limits for the dogs, for the sake of retaining a "clean" environment for Caleb's sensitive equipment. As Donatello went for another sip of coffee, he heard light footsteps, and assumed that it had to be Katherine. They sounded female, and she was the only woman that had opted out of the overnight journey to Asheville.

Kat peeked into the kitchen, and the way she focused on Donatello made him feel like she'd been searching for him.

"Hey, Kat. Is everything okay?"

She nodded. "It's sure quiet, isn't it?"

He chuckled. "It almost feels like a different house."

"Very odd indeed," she said distractedly. "Are you busy, Donny?"

The turtle flashed her a smile. "Not particularly, as you can see. Do you need something from me?"

Katherine looked over her shoulder at the door, in a way that made her seem apprehensive. "I want to ask you something." she began. "And you have my permission to refuse me outright, but I'd like you to hear me out first."

Nerves leaped to the surface. "Hear you out for what, Kat? What's going on?"

"I don't mean to alarm you, Donny, this isn't a life threatening situation. Honestly, it concerns taking the law into your own hands for what I think is a worthy cause."

Donatello was intrigued. "Could you be a little more specific?"

"It's about my dad."

He hadn't expected those words to come out her mouth, and _his_ dropped accordingly. "Your dad, Kat? What are you asking me to do?"

"I want to find him."

The purple-masked turtle stared at her silently for a couple of seconds, then-"Why, Kat? What is this really about?"

"It's about Karina. She's been feeling lost, and her self-esteem seems to have taken a turn for the worst."

"And finding your dad is supposed to _help_ somehow?"

"Carl is at the center of all of Karina's inadequacies. I just think if she had the chance to confront him, it might do her a world of good. And yes, I want to see him _pay_ for what he did to her. He belongs in prison."

"Kat, what if Karina doesn't _want _to confront him? Have you talked about this with her?"

"Not in the sense that I was going to search for him. I'm not going to act on anything concerning Carl without getting her and Brandon's consent. I just want to _find_ our father, so I have the options to present to them. That way if they want to approach him, they can, or he can simply rot in prison. I'm good either way."

"So you need my help finding him."

"I'm pretty sure he's using someone else's identity, Donny, but I think he's still in the US. I've been investigating a lead I had from an old contact of his down in Florida, and I've hit a brick wall. I can't get the information I need without a court order, because I'm only going off the 'hear-say' of someone else who won't step forward. To make matters worse, the guy has disappeared on me."

"What information do you have?"

"I have a social security number that I think he's using, but I can't find out anything connected to it. I've been searching countless databases of mug shots in Florida, hoping that he'll get in trouble again. So far, I haven't found a sign of him."

"So you have a number which your father may or may not be using."

"I need to find the other documents associated with it, and I need his location, Donny. I think it's going to require hacking some sensitive databases. You don't have to do this. I feel bad even for asking, but I want him to get caught, and I don't know how else to do it. The police aren't going to act on the information I got from a disappearing witness, who was questionable to begin with. I have nothing else to go on."

Donatello nodded slowly. "Well...I could try. I can't make you any promises, but I'm willing to take a look at what's connected to that social security number. What are you going to tell Bran and Karina?"

"Nothing, yet. I don't want to take this to them until we can make a positive identification and locate Carl. Do you mind...can you keep this between us until then? I mean, if it comes out, it comes out. I'm only asking that you don't_ volunteer _information."

Donny squirmed awkwardly. "Kat, I don't know. It makes me uncomfortable, if I'm being honest. I don't know if I'll be able to hide this from them, or whether I _should_."

Katherine took a deep breath. "I don't want to get anyone's hopes up without a good reason. You don't need to deceive anyone if they come to you directly...I'm only asking that you don't go mentioning this conversation unless it comes up on their end first."

"Okay...I won't run and tell them, Kat. I can't make any guarantees, but I'll see what I can do."

"Take your time, Donny...don't let it interfere with anything else you need to do here. Maybe this subject doesn't even need to be broached until we get to the city."

Donatello nodded, squashing the bad feeling that agreeing to this gave him. "I said I would look into it, Kat. I'll do the best I can."


	88. Mountain

**_*_I do love a good holiday...that should be pretty obvious. This Christmas, there's more reason to be thankful than usual. The song included has nothing to do with the season, but it felt appropriate nonetheless. It's called "Up to the Mountain", by Patty Griffin. If you haven't heard it...you need it.**

* * *

><p>Michelangelo woke up naturally, without any sense of urgency to escape the comfortable warmth of his bed. He couldn't hear sounds indicating that anyone else was up, so it had to be early yet. The orange-masked turtle opened his eyes to see the grey overcast dawn, and turned his head to look at Rebecca. The young woman was sleeping soundly, a fact for which he was profoundly thankful. Most nights her sleeping pattern had been extremely fitful; whether it was more related to his sickness or the pregnancy, he didn't know.<p>

Mike glanced at the oxygen tank in the corner. He'd been using the supplemental air for several days, and his blood oxygen level had finally stabilized to the point that Donatello had allowed him to sleep without it.

_I hope _he_ got some sleep too_, he thought ruefully. _I could just see him staying awake all night, watching his scanner to make sure that I was breathing properly on my own._

The turtle looked back to the cloudy sky, and sat up slowly when he realized it was _snowing_. He grinned as he got to his feet and approached the window for a closer look at the scene outside. _Snow for Christmas. It doesn't get much more appropriate than that, does it?_ He crossed the room to get to the door, and listened at the entrance to the hallway. _I don't hear _anything_. Shell, you can bet that will be short-lived. By this time next year, Reina and Olivia sure won't be letting anyone sleep in._

He cast one more look at Becky before sneaking down the hallway. His body felt stiff and unused, but it was getting easier to breathe on a daily basis. Mike still felt like he could burst at the idea that whether he was going to live or die was no longer in question. The turtle stopped inside the Great Room, shaking his head at the incredible sight of the light snow coming down through the gigantic floor-to-ceiling windows. It actually took him a moment to notice all of the Christmas loot strewn across the room, making the evergreen tree look like an island in the middle of an ocean.

_Yeah, Santa's got our zip code all right._

He was startled when the kitchen door popped open, but he smiled when he saw Caleb. "Dude, you're quiet. I didn't think anyone else was up."

"I haven't been for very long," he replied. "Merry Christmas."

"Hey, you too. Were you thinking about digging through the presents like me?"

The man chuckled. "No, just getting a moment of sanity in while I can."

"You learn quick." Mike snorted.

"Would you like some tea?" Caleb offered. "I just made some for myself. It would only take a minute."

"No, thanks. I'm good for now." He peered at the rusty-haired man for a moment before continuing. "Are you doing okay this morning?"

Caleb nodded. "So, so. I'm definitely feeling Susan's absence, but I'm grateful not to be alone. I think being surrounded by the chaos will actually help matters." The older man walked over to the couch, throwing a look outside as he clutched his mug closer to his chest. "It's beautiful out there, isn't it? Susan was always thrilled to see snow, even when it didn't stick to the ground. Just the sight of it coming down was enough for her. We stood a much greater chance of seeing it here on the mountain than down in Asheville."

Michelangelo sat down on the couch beside him. "Do you think it will feel weird to go back to the Institute after all this?"

"I don't know if weird is the word. I think I would be returning to the Institute with a greater vision than I've ever had. My eyes have been opened to possibilities that I never knew existed. I've learned so much over the last three months, even things that I can apply to legal research. I'm so excited in one sense that I want to get started right away, to find out if the receptor blocker/inhibitor can achieve the same success against the Wnt pathway in humans. This kind of breakthrough could save a lot of lives. At the same time, I don't enjoy the thought of all of you leaving."

"You_ could _come to New York," Mike pointed out. "Your equipment is portable, this we know. Are you attached to this Lab in Asheville?"

Caleb shook his head. "I'd only been there a few months, so I wouldn't say that exactly. It's something to think about, I suppose."

"Is there anything else tying you down here?"

"I have colleagues, investors...But money can be found from many sources, if a project is worthy enough."

"Why don't you consider it?" he asked. "I mean, no one's gonna push you to make a choice. We still have a couple of months left here anyway, don't we?"

"Yes, we do." Caleb ran his fingers through his hair with a chuckle. "I've gotten pretty accustomed to being around the noise and life of this group. The thought of being alone after getting a taste of this is almost enough to make me ill."

Mike touched his arm tentatively. Physical contact was a barrier they hadn't crossed often, even with the close proximity the two had kept during the months of research and treatment. "It's up to you, Caleb. There's pretty much always room for one more as far as _we're_ concerned. We'd love to keep you around, but at the end of the day, it has to be what _you _want."

Caleb gave him a sad smile. "I have a lot to consider."

"No pressure." Mike patted his shoulder. His head turned as he heard someone coming. He glanced down the hallway to catch Becky stretching, and the young woman waved at him. "Morning, Beck. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, I set the alarm on my cell phone to make sure I'd be up before Karina. The casseroles are already in the fridge, and they simply have to be transferred to the ovens. I figured I could handle that alone."

The orange-masked turtle wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the woman deeply. She returned his embrace, holding onto him for a long moment. Mike took the opportunity to study her eyes, and saw exhaustion as clearly as if she'd addressed it out loud.

"Becky," he said reproachfully. "You're trying to do too much."

"I'm perfectly capable-"

"You're going to rest today. Period. You said the casseroles need to go in the oven?"

"Karina left the handwritten instructions on the fridge," she replied hesitantly. "But they cook at different temperatures, for varying lengths of time."

"I can handle reading." Mike grinned. "So sit back, enjoy the snow, and I'll only be a minute."

Caleb trailed him into the kitchen, and the man immediately headed to preheat the double ovens.

"What temperatures do we need?" he asked.

Mike pulled the paper off the fridge. "350 and 400...And the potatoes have to cook longer."

Caleb turned on the ovens and headed for the cabinet that housed the mugs. "They've been giving Rebecca the red raspberry leaf tea, haven't they?"

Mike nodded, and the man withdrew a packet of herbs.

"I'll start steeping them. I can throw the casseroles in the oven when it's ready too, if you want."

"The potatoes have to cook for like twenty extra minutes."

"Got it. Just wait for the tea, and then you can join your wife. This is a really important time for the two of you, and you ought to be enjoying it."

_I am, thanks to you_, Mike thought inwardly.

* * *

><p>The Great Room was a glorious mess, but no one appeared to care for the moment. Olivia was still finding more joy in ripping up wrapping paper than she was in playing with any of the new toys. Karina had started picking up after the little turtle, but didn't have the heart to completely ruin Liv's fun. The two border collies looked like they were finally worn out from their frolicking, and were sacked out on the floor a couple of feet away from the hearth.<p>

Michelangelo felt like peace had wrapped him up in a warm blanket. The relative calm after the "storm" of opening gifts and eating was comforting in itself, but even more so because of where his spirit was. _It's still amazing to think that after everything we went through, we've got an answer. _

Donatello was looking at him, and it spurred Mike to give him a casual smile.

"What's up, bro?" Mike asked.

"It's been a long year, hasn't it?"

Michelangelo laughed. "You mean between you getting hit by a car and following the Akiudo to Okinawa, to coming home to _my_ issues and the earthquake? Yeah, Don, I'd call that a long year. It's a good thing it's almost over."

"That ain't even all of it." Raphael scoffed. "You've completely forgotten the most important part, that_ both _of you should be paying attention to right now."

Mike was confused until he noticed the red-masked turtle motion in Olivia's direction. Olivia was standing on her legs unaided, a feat she'd been performing for several weeks.

"C'mere, _Kouen_," Raphael encouraged her, holding out his arms. "I know you're ready. You've been rocking back and forth for two days. C'mere so daddy can get you."

The little turtle's amber eyes stared back at him imploringly, and she raised her arms in a gesture to be picked up.

Karina got down on the floor beside the baby. "You can do it, _angelito_. C'mon."

The three steps the 11-month-old took to get to her mother left Mike a little breathless.

The young woman squealed with delight as she swept Olivia off the floor. "You're such a _big _girl, Liv!"

Olivia gave her a toothy grin, clapping her hands excitedly as Karina boosted her up in her arms.

"That's right, Liv, give yourself a hand," Raph said. "That was really good, kid."

Karina handed the squirming baby over to her father and ran off, presumably to tell everyone else within hearing distance.

The blue-masked turtle got to his feet to pat Olivia on the shell. "Good job, Liv. I can't believe she'll be a year old next month. Training comes next," he added impishly.

"You just can't wait to dig your claws into my kid, can you?" Raphael scoffed.

"It'll be a joint effort, won't it?" Leonardo returned. "She's going to need her dad to teach her most of this stuff."

"I never saw myself as a great teacher," Raphael admitted.

Mike was surprised by the honest confession, which only made him realize how concerned the red-masked turtle was. "Shell, Raph, you've been helping teach Jen things for years. And what about Greg and Bran? You work with them too."

"He picks on us you mean," Greg said dryly.

"It's different with them," Raphael insisted. "Liv is younger and more...vulnerable."

"You didn't think you'd be a good father either," Donny reminded him. "And you _are_. You just need to start with the basics, and work her way up from there. It's the same thing that Sensei did with us."

The mention of Splinter caused a jolt of longing to fill Michelangelo._ I wish he could have been here to see Liv, that he'd have a chance to know _my_ kid. _He cut the thought off quickly before he had a chance to get emotional. _I don't want to cry today. I've done enough of that over the last few weeks. I just want to be happy because I'm going to live, and my bros won't have to go through this._

He suddenly noticed Jenna quietly strumming her guitar from the corner. There had been some group singing earlier on, but now the woman appeared to be stealing a private minute with the instrument.

"Is your wife okay?" he asked Donny.

His brother nodded. "She's fine - Jen said she was figuring out a part." Donatello raised his head in her direction. "What _are_ you working on, Jen?"

"It's not mine, and it isn't Christmassy," she returned. "It's just something running through my head."

"Let's hear it," Mike requested.

Jenna came over to sit on the edge of a chair, with the guitar strap still resting over her shoulder. She ran her fingers over the strings a little bit more strongly as she settled into a rhythm. Mike watched the other women gathering up behind the couch to listen, but Jenna didn't appear to notice them. The raven-haired woman smoothed dark locks behind her ear, and picked up the melody where she'd left off. Jenna spent a few seconds building the notes up again before starting to sing along with them.

"_I went up to the mountain  
>Because you asked me to<br>Up over the clouds  
>To where the sky was blue<br>I could see all around me  
>Everywhere<br>I could see all around me  
>Everywhere<em>

_Sometimes I feel like_  
><em>I've never been nothing but tired<em>  
><em>And I'll be walking<em>  
><em>Till the day I expire<em>  
><em>Sometimes I lay down<em>  
><em>No more can I do<em>  
><em>But then I go on again<em>  
><em>Because you ask me to<em>

_Some days I look down_  
><em>Afraid I will fall<em>  
><em>And though the sun shines<em>  
><em>I see nothing at all<em>  
><em>Then I hear your sweet voice, oh<em>  
><em>Oh, come and then go, come and then go<em>  
><em>Telling me softly<em>  
><em>You love me so<em>

_The peaceful valley_  
><em>Just over the mountain<em>  
><em>The peaceful valley<em>  
><em>Few come to know<em>  
><em>I may never get there<em>  
><em>Ever in this lifetime<em>  
><em>But sooner or later<em>  
><em>It's there I will go<em>  
><em>Sooner or later<em>  
><em>It's there I will go…"<em>

Mike had been listening to Jenna, but felt himself drawn to look at Caleb, who almost looked overcome. When he saw the older man slipping out of the room, the orange-masked turtle rose to follow him. He caught up with him as Caleb entered the back sitting room, and called the man's name.

By the way Caleb jumped, he probably hadn't realized he was being followed.

"Sorry, dude, didn't mean to scare you."

The man laughed softly. "I should be used to it, shouldn't I?" Despite his smile, he couldn't hide the emotion that was threatening.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Caleb. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You're in blessed company, Michelangelo, and I know you appreciate them. Don't ever let go of that."

Mike acted against his natural inclination to honor the personal barrier that Caleb had erected months ago and hugged the man. Caleb blinked in surprise, but didn't try to escape him.

"I wouldn't be here at all without you," Mike told him.

Caleb shook his head. "I feel like I owe all of _you_ a great debt."

Mike grinned. "That's an ongoing argument with all of us, Caleb. You'll have to get used to that too."


	89. Reunion

Three days had passed since Christmas, and along with the coming new year, the family had yet another occasion to look forward to, which would be kicking off that very evening. The last batch of holiday visitors was due to arrive, and they'd definitely been forced to travel the furthest.

Donatello had rarely seen Greg look as antsy as the man currently did. He had tried to get his friend to sit down, but the man was too anxious to stay still.

"It's been months since I saw her, Donny. What if it isn't the same? What if Sayuri feels differently now? We were in a stressful situation in Okinawa, and that can make people do and say things that they wouldn't otherwise," Greg worried out loud.

Donatello tried hard to repress a smile for the sake of his flummoxed friend as the man rambled on.

"I should have gone to the airport. Why didn't I meet them down there?"

"Because then you'd probably be sitting at some lounge bar, telling a perfect stranger all of this." Donatello grinned.

"I'm not going to go off drinking just because I'm nervous," Greg said heatedly.

"Donny didn't mean it that way, Heff, now _chill_," Raphael ordered. "They weren't even supposed to be here tonight. How is it your fault that they caught an earlier connecting flight? I'm sure Sayuri can handle driving up here."

"That's not the point, Raph," Greg complained. "I mean, how does this make me look? She shouldn't be finding her own way up the mountain in a country that's foreign to her."

Donatello forced a serious look. "Heff, I honestly understand how you feel," he reminded him. "The first few years Jen and I were together, we were separated a lot. She was here for school, but she was also living in Australia as the daughter of United States Diplomats. Jenna traveled with them to different regions of the country, and met so many people.

"There were plenty of opportunities for her to fall for someone else, and I thought she would eventually. I tried to push her away several times, hoping that she could have a normal life, but Jen wouldn't give up on me. I know you're worried that Sayuri won't feel the same way about you, but she's coming _here_, isn't she? Sayuri flew all the way to the States, and she didn't have to. If she just wanted to break up with you, she could have done it over an e-mail, or in one of your Skype chats. You _have_ still been talking, haven't you?"

Greg dragged his fingers through his sandy blond hair self-consciously. "I should have had Karina cut my hair," he muttered.

"Would you listen to yourself?" Raphael interjected. "Stop freaking out. Everything's going to be fine. You've been dying to see her; you ought to be excited right now."

"I _am_ excited, Raph. I wanted to see her before this, but it's been a hectic year of work for the both of us, and there was the kids getting settled in on her side," Greg said wistfully.

Donatello was almost as eager for Sayuri to arrive as Greg was, for the chance to see Hisui and Shunshi for the first time since they'd left them behind on Iriomote. Despite the brevity of their relationship, the younger boy, Shunshi, had latched onto the turtle fiercely.

_I owe that kid a lot_, Donatello mused. _He and his friend are the ones who found me on that beach. I could have died out there all alone if he hadn't talked Hisui into helping me. Instead I made a couple more unlikely friends. He and Hisui have been through such a rough year themselves. I hope they adjusted well to living with Sayuri. Shunshi still talks about wanting to move to New York, but he hasn't been saying that as frequently. Hopefully that means he's doing better. I think he's finally learning to trust Sayuri, which seems like a real feat._

The Japanese brother and sister had been paired with Sayuri earlier that year, without any of them having prior knowledge of her, except for the woman's connection with Donatello. In a moment of desperation after a dangerous attack was mounted against the two children, Donny had turned to Sayuri to help keep them safe.

_It made sense to ask her. From her position with the Prefectural Police, she knew enough to be able to watch over them, and give them an edge over their version of Social Services. I never expected what came next._

After their troubled mother responded violently to Hisui and Shunshi's attacker, she'd been arrested and subsequently charged with the man's murder.

_I never imagined Sayuri would go to the length that she did, taking them into her own home to prevent them from being separated. I still can't figure out how she got their mother to sign her rights away._

Donatello broke away from the thought regretfully as he pictured Hisui's green eyes in his mind. Even today, he wanted to hit someone when he considered the hellish experiences that she and her brother had endured at the hands of their mother's various boyfriends. It was nothing to Hisui to offer herself up time and time again, just to keep her younger brother untouched for the most part.

The girl was technically much closer to being a woman than a child, which meant that she wouldn't have been forced to live under Social Services for long. What she couldn't do was find legal means to take Shunshi with her, being only sixteen at the time.

Finding a way to keep them protected and together was the only task for which Donatello had requested Sayuri's help, and he'd been shocked by her rapid response. It was still amazing to him that the wounded semi-obsessive woman had taken the children in on a second's notice. Yet after months of communication, he'd come to realize that the relationships with Hisui and Shunshi were dearly needed on Sayuri's part, as much as the children needed a place to go.

Greg had originally been planning a visit to Okinawa around Thanksgiving, before everything had gone to pieces in their lives. When the trip had been postponed, Sayuri made her own plans to come to the United States and visit everyone in North Carolina.

Donatello glanced at Greg and saw the man staring longingly out the window. _The poor guy. I really do know how he feels. But at the same time, Jen and I had more time together at the front end of our relationship than he and Sayuri did. I don't blame him for being nervous. I used to have to run laps in the sewer when I was waiting around for Jenna to arrive in the old days._

Donatello turned his head as Michelangelo ambled into the room, and he studied his younger brother judiciously. He was encouraged by what he'd seen of Mike's physical condition in the last few days.

_If how Mike looks is any proof, I would have to say that Caleb's theory about the Wnt pathway is correct. Now I just have to get him to use the inhibitor on me, to find out what happens with the mutated cells before the condition is acute._

Donatello was eager to jump into the next phase of experimentation, but Caleb was taking it more slowly, still examining Mikey's case.

"So they're not here yet?" The orange-masked turtle grinned in Greg's direction.

"Would I be staring out the window like some kind of stalker if they'd already arrived?" Greg answered.

Mike chuckled softly as he settled onto the couch beside Donatello. "_Somebody's _nervous. Did you tell Heff he should take a jog, Don?" He dug an elbow into Donatello's side.

"No, and I probably should have," Don said ruefully.

Greg sighed from the window. "I ought to just leave, because I swear the minute I step away, they're going to be here."

"That's usually how it works." Raphael snickered. "Seriously, man, could you try and relax? She won't get here any faster because you're looking for her."

Greg didn't look at the red-masked turtle, and his shoulders suddenly stiffened. "I think I saw headlights," he announced.

Don got to his feet to join him, and saw the same flash of light incoming through the darkened tree line. He tugged on Greg's arm to direct him toward the door, but the man was fussing with the collar of his shirt.

"I wonder if I should have changed," Greg fretted.

"Heff, you look _fine_. Don't go thinking about changing now that they're this close," Don urged him.

Donatello felt a jump in his heart rate as the rental car pulled up beside the van that they'd continued using since coming to North Carolina. Michelangelo came up to grip Greg by his left arm, while the purple-masked turtle had him captured on the right. They herded the man out onto the porch, and heard car doors already opening.

Donatello bounded down the stairs to meet the small body that was flying toward the house. He hugged the ten-year-old Shunshi fiercely, and felt the boy tremble in his grasp.

"_You are still real_," Shunshi proclaimed, making Donatello laugh.

"_I will be every time you see me,"_ Don told him, and he opened an arm to welcome Hisui. Her black hair had grown out a little since he'd last seen her, now reaching past her chin. She was unchanged otherwise, with the exception of the joy reflected in her eyes at seeing him.

"It is good to see you," she said carefully in English, not even hesitating on pronunciation. "I am learning to speak English, and Shunshi is too. Sayuri has been helping us."

"Hey, that's great." Donatello embraced the teenager fondly. "_I will try to use English a little here and there with you guys."_

Shunshi nodded solemnly, with an expression that seemed far too serious for a little boy.

_He's not a normal little boy, _Donny told himself. With one hand on each of their backs, Donatello guided them into the house ahead of him. He glanced over his shoulder before walking inside, and saw the Asian woman and Greg hovering near the cars. Don could read the awkwardness in each of their poses as they exchanged words he couldn't hear.

For an instant, he was struck with concern by their subdued greeting. _Maybe she only came on behalf of Shunshi and Hisui. They've told me how much they wanted to visit America, and Sayuri may have been trying to make them happy._

His concern abated somewhat when he saw the pair embrace, in a fashion that seemed a little more than "friendly." Donny smiled secretively and hurried into the house before they could see him watching. When he entered the Great Room, the two kids were still standing in awe of the space, and had yet to move two feet away from the door.

Donatello laughed. "_It does leave an impression_," he said to them.

Hisui nodded slowly. "It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen."

"You'll have to tell Luke that," Donatello replied. He was puzzled to find Mike out of sight, and Raphael must have noticed his confusion.

"The Chucklehead went to round everyone up," Raphael offered as he worked his way to his feet with the crutches. "_Hey, guys. Nice to see you again_," he directed at Hisui and Shunshi.

"_You remember my brother, Raphael_," Don told them.

Their smiles seemed genuine, if a little nervous. The kids had only met his older brother briefly on Iriomote, but the red-masked turtle was hard to forget. As the rest of the family filtered into the room, Don offered the pair a reassuring smile when they appeared a bit overwhelmed. He was quick to call Leonardo when he saw his oldest brother.

"Leo, c'mere. It's about time all of you were introduced properly."

Leonardo approached Hisui and Shunshi, smiling broadly. "_I have heard much about the two of you_," he said. "_It is an honor to finally meet in person_."

"_We_ are honored," Hisui said timidly in English.

"Thank you for saving my brother," Leonardo said to her, and glanced at Shunshi questioningly. "_Thank you_."

"_I am glad to know they were able to save _you," Hisui went on. "_It was a very sad thing to me when Donatello-san told me of the danger_."

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "_They took some huge risks, and we all lived to tell about it. We can have a Happy New Year on that note alone_."

Shunshi was looking at Leonardo more boldly now. "_Donatello says that all of you are fighters_."

"_When we need to be, yes_," Leonardo answered.

"_That is what I want to do_," the boy said importantly. "_I have had three years of karate_."

Leonardo took pains to look appropriately impressed. "_You should work out with us at some point while you are here. Don and I would love to see what you can do_."

Shunshi flushed with pride, as if Leonardo had just bestowed him with a black belt. "_I cannot wait."_

Donatello ruffled the boy's shaggy dark hair from behind. "_Then we will not keep you waiting long. Come morning you can join us for our regular routine, okay_?"

Shunshi nodded eagerly, but Don's eyes went straight to Hisui as he heard her gasp. He beamed when he saw how taken the teenage girl was with Olivia.

"She is beautiful, Raphael-san," Hisui told the red-masked turtle.

"Isn't she?" Raphael grinned. "You can have a closer look at her if you want."

Hisui took a couple more steps, stretching a hand out toward the baby turtle. Olivia stared at the newcomer for a long moment before deciding Hisui wasn't a killer beast, and she grabbed the teenager's outstretched fingers.

"She is so strong!" Hisui exclaimed.

"Yep, she's my kid after all," Raph said proudly. "Her name is Olivia, and this is my wife, Karina."

The Asian girl nodded. "I am pleased to meet you, Karina. You have a very pretty baby."

Karina smiled. "Thank you. Welcome to the United States. I'm glad you got here safely." The woman looked at Raphael uncertainly, probably wondering how much Hisui understood.

"It was good, little faster than we expect." Hisui noticeably searched for words that time. "I am still learning this, but I will do my best."

Donatello patted her shoulder encouragingly. "_You are doing great, Hisui, and you look good too. Everything is going okay at home_?"

"_Better than ever, Donatello-san. I had forgotten what it felt like to live without fear. It has been an adjustment for all of us, but even Shunshi…"_ Hisui trailed off as she watched the young boy talking to Leonardo at a mile a minute. "_I am trying to relegate myself to just being his sister and not his mother. It has been a long road this year…but we are in a good place. We are also very grateful to see you again."_

"_I told you I would not forget you, Hisui…and I never will,"_ Don said firmly.


	90. Let Go

Michelangelo was having a ball. He loved the chaos and noise of a full house, and seeing Greg so off-kilter, the man could barely stand up straight. Greg and Sayuri were obviously restraining themselves, politely remaining in the company of the household, when they probably really wanted to separate.

The orange-masked turtle shook his head as his first impression of Sayuri came to mind. He had felt intense anger toward her when two of his brothers had been captured by the Akiudo, for something he deemed entirely _her_ mistake. Sayuri's apparent lack of remorse had only fanned the flames of his fury, and had made it difficult for the turtle to accept her continued presence among them.

_But that's all in the past, _he told himself. _She ended up coming through for us big time, and she's really been there for Hisui and Shunshi. _Mike stole another glance at the Asian woman, marveling at the softness in her features. It was a sharp contrast to the desperate unhappy renegade who'd made it her life's goal to bring down the Akiudo at any cost.

_What a difference a year can make, _he thought with satisfaction. _I'm sure glad this one is closing up._

Sayuri was sitting on the couch talking to Leonardo, but Mike noticed the way she sent inconspicuous looks in Greg's direction. The turtle held back the snort that started to rise. _Shell, I bet she's driving Heff crazy, and she doesn't even know it. Someone is going to have to dismiss them soon, for their own good._

The blue-masked turtle was drilling the woman with his questions about the captured men from the Akiudo, but Sayuri didn't appear to mind.

_Of course she doesn't mind, _he mused with a smirk_. Besides us, she's the only one who knows what _happened_ to the Akiudo. It's not like she can casually bring it up in conversation with one of her colleagues. She has to bury it all and keep everything inside. It's probably freeing to talk it out this way._

"Are you sure Takashi isn't going to succeed in getting a reduced sentence?" Leonardo was asking.

"The first judge gave him the maximum penalty permitted by the law," Sayuri replied. "I know Takashi's type, though, and he will not give up easily. He will go through with an appeal, I guarantee it. It is a slow process in my country, which could take years."

"Could an appeal actually do him any good? Takashi is still viewed as being guilty as sin, isn't he?"

Sayuri laughed. "Well, yes, Leonardo-san, but that is true of almost every criminal in my country. It is a widely held public consensus that the accused are guilty of whatever crime they're being charged with. If the police have not obtained a formal confession, it is said that the one accused is still denying it."

"Have you seen him up close at all?" Leo asked.

"I followed the trial, and sat in the back during a couple of sessions in the courtroom. I was approached by the media on a few occasions because of the sting that got the rest of my old team killed by the Akiudo, but I would not comment. I believe the more space I put between that man and I, the better off I will be."

Leonardo nodded. "Absolutely."

Mike saw the troubled look in his oldest brother's eyes, and couldn't help feeling mystified. _I wish I knew what he was thinking. From his concern, you'd think that Takashi and his slave traders were still out there. Why is he acting like we have something to be worried about?_

Michelangelo cast away the thought of the disbanded gang, and vowed to ask Leonardo about his concerns later. The orange-masked turtle sighed quietly as the excitement from the others arriving ceased to fuel his body. It felt like he was starting to battle with just keeping his eyes open.

He didn't realize he was nodding off until a hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. Mike looked up to see Luke, and he smiled sheepishly.

"C'mon," the man said evenly. "You can see everyone in the morning. Right now, you need sleep."

Michelangelo pouted slightly, but didn't argue as he got to his feet. The turtle didn't see Rebecca, and made a quick scan of the room to locate her. The curly-haired woman wasn't in sight. His brow furrowed as Luke guided him out of the Great Room. "Have you seen Becky, Doc?"

Luke shook his head. "Not for a while. The bathroom door is closed – let's knock as we go past."

Michelangelo paused by the door, and rapped firmly on the wood with his fist. "Anyone in there?"

"It's just me, Mikey," Becky returned after a moment.

"Are you okay?"

"Sort of."

"I'm opening the door, Beck." When he didn't hear her protest, Mike turned the door knob and found the young woman leaning over the sink.

"Did you get sick?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she said faintly.

"Ready to come to bed with me?"

She nodded a little miserably, and he stretched out an arm to draw her to his side. Luke accompanied them back down the hall to their room, where he proceeded to check over Rebecca. The woman gave Luke one-word answers to his questions, making it even more apparent that she just wanted to sleep.

"You're getting close to being dehydrated again," Luke mentioned. "If you can't keep anything down tomorrow, we'll need to go to the IV."

"Whatever you need to do," Becky replied. "I'm in your hands, Doc. Just get me through the next few months until I have a healthy baby, and I'll never ask you for anything again."

"That's not how it works, Becky," Luke said quietly. "You know I'll do everything in my power, but it isn't as if I'm doing you a favor. Do you want something to help you sleep?"

Rebecca turned her gaze to Mike for a beat, then shook her head at Luke. "No, I don't think I need it. I'm fine, Doc. I'm just going to hang out with my husband until I fall asleep, if that's okay."

Luke nodded. "I'll never force that kind of medicine on you."

The man crossed around the side of the bed, and Mike settled in for Luke to take a quick look at him too.

"If you have any problems, call me," Luke reminded them. "Don't hesitate."

Rebecca pressed up against Mike's plastron as the doctor left the room, and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Sure you're okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah – it's nothing new, Mikey. I'm worn out, and this is exactly where I need to be."

"Good," he said decisively. "'Cause it's where I want you to be."

Michelangelo felt the vibration of her chest when she giggled, and Becky rested her head against his shoulder contentedly. "Get some sleep, Beck. I love you."

"I love you too," she murmured.

* * *

><p>Mike felt completely relaxed, more so than he could remember being in a long time. The tightness in his chest had become so familiar, it felt unusual for it <em>not<em> to bother him the minute he tried to settle into a deep pattern of breathing. It was merely a gift to feel like he could fall asleep, without wondering if he would wake up.

_It was dark, yet he had a strong sense of everything around him. The surroundings were so familiar he knew what they looked like without having to see them under the harsh blast of lighting. The cool cement under his feet didn't register his footsteps, but the rat seemed to have heard him anyway._

_"You may come in, Michelangelo. You do not need to keep walking past the door."_

_The orange-masked turtle had been talking himself into entering his Sensei's quarters, nervous about facing his Master in this fragile state. Things had gotten worse over the last month, and Splinter had gone downhill more sharply than he'd ever expected._

But he doesn't deserve to have me ignoring him, just because I don't know what to say or do, _he told himself_. Even if I just sit there, it's better than doing nothing at all.

_Mike held his breath as he entered the room, hesitating close to the door. He'd made every effort to not let his Sensei see him cry, but the goal seemed unattainable._

_The rat raised his head a couple of inches, his whiskers twitching as he gazed at the turtle. "You do not have to come near if you do not wish to, my son."_

_"I want to, Sensei, it's just…" he faltered. "I want to be there for you, but I don't know how. I feel like I'm going to fall apart, and I don't think that would help."_

_"You put too much pressure on yourself, Michelangelo. I am not relying on you to lift me up, my son. I only want to see you."_

_The turtle squirmed awkwardly as he took a seat in the hard-back chair. "I didn't know it could get harder than it already was. I'm sorry I can't do anything, Master. I'm sorry you have to suffer."_

_"Life is a gift, Michelangelo, but no one gets to hold on to it forever. I do not regret that I have to leave this life, because it has been so full. But I am sorry that I have to leave all of _you_. The joy I have left is in the gifts I have been _blessed _with, that I never asked for or expected. You, my sons, are the ones that make me want to linger on."_

_Mike swallowed hard as he fought back emotion. "Master, you don't have to keep suffering just because of us. We want you here too…but we can't be selfish. _I_ can't be selfish. You shouldn't have to go through this, not if you're just worried about us. We'll make it, Ootosan. We've got each other. It's not going to be fun for a while, but we'll be okay. We'll miss you, but that's better than you being in constant pain. Please don't keep putting yourself through this for us."_

_Splinter's hand stirred on the bed, and Mike reached to take it. "I'm sorry for avoiding you, Father. I wanted to be strong for you, but I can't. I didn't want you to see that. I didn't want you to be disappointed and let down."_

_"You are not a disappointment to me, Michelangelo, nor are your brothers. You are everything that has made this life worth living. It is not easy for anyone to say goodbye to those they truly love."_

_The orange-masked turtle clenched his eyes shut for a long moment. "We'll be okay, Sensei," he repeated. "You don't have to keep fighting this. You deserve some rest."_

_Michelangelo looked at the floor as the wheezing in his Sensei's chest became more pronounced. It didn't even sound like he should have been _able_ to speak._

_"I am so grateful, my son, to have known all of you. I am grateful for your spirit, which has been like a light in a very dark place." Splinter paused for a long moment, but Mike sensed that he wasn't finished. "I regret nothing. I look back, and I am only thankful for the chance I had to be a father, and the opportunity to raise the four finest sons that ever walked the earth."_

_"That's only because you're the best dad," Mike added. "Everything we are, it's because of you. I'm gonna remember that for the rest of my life. A part of you won't die, because it's inside us, along with the things you taught us."_

_Splinter's smile brightened his face for an instant before the shadow returned. "Promise me you will not be hard on yourself, Michelangelo," he said with effort. "I know that you feel the need to be the encourager, but you have to grieve too."_

_"I'll try, Sensei." Michelangelo didn't stop the threatening tears from falling this time._

_His Master's hand had been gripping his in return, but now Splinter's pressure was lessening._

_"If you need to sleep, go ahead, Sensei. I'll be right here," Mike told him. _I'm not ready to lose you, but I don't want to watch you suffer just to make us feel better, _he added inwardly._

_The look in Splinter's onyx eyes seemed to indicate that his Master could hear his thoughts. "Sorrow can be overwhelming, Michelangelo, but no pain lasts forever. It does not matter what you are facing, there has never been a night without end. Remember that, my son, and remember that I love you."_

_"I love you too, Ootosan." He set his father's hand down on the bed as Splinter's eyes closed._

_The rat's chest relaxed momentarily, becoming so still that Mike wasn't sure if he was breathing. Fear struck his mind like a cold shock, but then he noticed his chest shudder with effort._

You can't keep this up on our account, Sensei. We're _all _going to have to let you go.

* * *

><p>Mike opened his eyes suddenly, aware that his pillow was wet with tears, and his mind was heavy with the memory of one of his last conversations with his Master. The temptation to bawl existed, but instead he wound his arms tighter around Rebecca, clinging to her warmth.<p>

_Life is a gift…I feel like someone gave mine back to me. I've got to make sure it counts for something._

Becky stirred in his arms, but didn't wake up as he kissed the back of her head.

_Splinter's gotta live on through _me_ to reach my kid. Everything he taught us…Geesh, I think I need to brush up over the next few months, _he thought, as he felt sleep overtaking him again.


	91. Competition

Greg didn't understand how Sayuri could possibly be wide awake. He had been talking with the Asian woman through the night, and was nearly exhausted _himself_. He found Sayuri staring at him and cocked his head at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"I enjoyed meeting your family, Greg-san," she replied. "And I have enjoyed seeing you again."

Greg smiled tiredly. "I've been looking forward to seeing you too. I'm sorry I had to bail on Thanksgiving; things were coming unglued around here."

Sayuri gave him a strange smile. "Greg-san, we do not even celebrate Thanksgiving in Okinawa."

"Oh, yeah, I knew that." He colored slightly. "I just meant that I was supposed to make it out there, and it didn't happen."

"Many things were happening _here_," she said pointedly. "That is why I thought it was better for me to come to you. Besides, I do not know how much longer I could have waited to see you in person. I have missed you, Greg-san."

Greg knew the difficulty of the admission that those words actually were for her, given her heritage if nothing else. Leonardo had once explained to him about how restrained and formal her people were with their emotions. That she had made the move to come to _him_ spoke volumes.

"You really came all this way because you missed me?" He gave her an impish smile to soften the seriousness behind the question.

"I remember when _you_ flew nearly 8,000 miles because you thought I was about to get myself killed." Sayuri smiled sheepishly. "I feel like I still owe you for last time."

Greg made a scoffing sound, even as he hoped her gratitude wasn't the only reason she'd felt compelled to make the journey. "You don't owe me anything for coming after you, Sayuri. I wanted to see the Akiudo wiped off the face of the Earth as much as you did. Friends have to help each other with common goals, don't they?"

"Yes, friends…" she said slowly. "Do you see us continuing this way, Greg-san?"

He wasn't sure what to say. Greg knew how he felt, but revealing emotions too soon could prove disastrous if Sayuri wasn't in the same frame of mind. The man leaned on his arm heavily as he contemplated his answer.

"You're one of my best friends, Sayuri, but I'd hoped for more than that. Maybe it isn't right to say it this way, but I can't pretend I know all the rules and decorum you're supposed to have according to Japanese customs. I want more than a friendship with you."

The Asian woman sat up further in her chair. "I want more than that too, Greg-san. I pictured how it would be to see you again, and how I would tell you the moment you were in front of me. But we arrived and my courage fled. I am sorry. Do you still care for me, though I am not as bold as I ought to be?"

"If you can accept me in all my stupidity, I think I can handle your shyness, Sayuri." He reached for her hand intentionally. "I didn't know what to think when you kissed me right before we left Okinawa—"

"I was mortified afterward for days," Sayuri interrupted. "I could not believe my presumption, but after everything we had been through—"

"Sayuri, I didn't say I hated it. You know it confused me, because we had a relationship on such a minimal understanding before I came to your country, and things changed so quickly. We went from being contacts, to colleagues…to being soldiers on the front line of suicide," he finished jokingly. "I was distracted by the disaster with Leonardo and Donny, and I didn't even realize you had feelings for me at the time. I won't lie to you. I didn't even know I could have feelings for _you_, until you stopped me with that kiss.

"It was exactly what you needed to do, Sayuri. I could have walked away unwittingly, too dense to realize what was going on under my nose."

"You really were not offended?"

He laughed. "No, that wasn't how I'd describe it. I've been missing you more and more over the last several months, and I was sort of afraid you wouldn't feel the same way."

"I am many things, Greg-chan, but a teaser is not one of them. If I did not have those types of feelings for you, I would have cut our chats short a long time ago."

Greg's brow furrowed at the sudden change in her Japanese honorific. "What does 'chan' mean?"

"It has many meanings," she answered. "It is often used in referencing children, especially little girls—"

"Gee, thanks, Sayuri."

"But it can also be interchangeable with intimate friends, or perhaps something more," she said meaningfully.

"So 'chan' is a step up from 'san', at least on a personal level?"

She laughed. "Yes. Chan is a good title."

"Anything is better than you continually calling me by my full name."

Sayuri seemed amused. "One would assume you do not like your name, Greg-chan. Even the turtles call you something different."

"Heff," he filled in. "It's short for Heffernan. Raph decided I needed a new name."

Greg noticed Sayuri's gaze tracking out the window, and he was surprised to see what looked like the crack of dawn. He'd stopped watching the clock a long time ago, and couldn't believe it was nearly morning.

"Wow," he remarked. "I don't believe we stayed up all night. How are you _conscious_ after going through that long flight to get here and our time difference?"

"I slept on the plane, Greg-chan."

"You still have to get used to our time zone, and you won't do that by staying up all night with me."

The woman rose with a soft groan. "Maybe not, but it was worth it."

"Does that mean you're ready to go to bed?"

"Not quite. I'd like to see the sun come up."

Greg got to his feet to follow her toward the front door. He couldn't help watching her stretch languidly, and had to blink to make sure she didn't notice him staring. The pre-dawn air was cold, but not unbearable as they huddled together on the porch. Sayuri took a sharp breath as she rested her hands on the railing, and took her first look at the surrounding country in the light of day. It had already been dark by the time they had arrived at Lotus Salvus the night before.

"It's not too shabby here, huh?" Greg asked.

"No, not shabby, that is…does shabby mean something bad?"

"Sorry. It's a nice view," he simplified.

She smiled at him. "It is one of the most beautiful sights I have seen." Sayuri made eye contact with him again, looking more solemn. "I need your patience, Greg-chan. I know your people are freer with this kind of emotion, and I would like to be too. When I think about all of the women you are surrounded by with me so far away…I must admit that it makes me nervous."

Greg tried not to laugh, because he knew she was serious. "All the women around here are taken, Sayuri."

"You still work in the real world, and you are surrounded by them on a daily basis."

"I'm not interested in other women. You have to understand how knowing the turtles completely changes your priorities as a person. I was a player in the past, but you know all about that. There's isn't anything about my old habits that I haven't told you. I'm not the same person I was before."

She nodded meekly. "I am not trying to accuse you of being that person, Greg-chan. I am only pointing out that my competition is much better at this than I am. I think that would make any woman anxious."

Greg took her wrist to pull her toward him, and kissed her the way he'd wanted to since she'd arrived. "There _is_ no competition, Sayuri, not for me. I feel lucky to even be standing here."

"You are not the lucky one, Greg-chan, not with my baggage."

"We both have baggage," he corrected. "Let's try not to make this harder than it needs to be. I want this. Do you want this?"

Sayuri nodded once more.

"Good. That's all we need to settle for now."

* * *

><p>Raphael did his best to muffle a grunt as he pushed his way through another set of leg lifts, specifically targeting the limb that had been more severely injured. He knew how closely Marc was watching him, and he didn't want the man trying to slow him down. Pain was irrelevant to the red-masked turtle; he was only concerned with regaining function in the leg he hadn't used in months.<p>

Marcus silently allowed him to finish another round of the exercises before crouching down by the foot of the bed. "Easy, Raph. It would be nice if we could simply turn the page on this injury and everything could be normal again, but that isn't how it works. You have to increase your training a little bit at a time.

"You know I'm not just being overprotective, don't you? I'm setting you up to succeed the best way that I know how to. The excess pain doesn't bother you, which means you have the potential to push things too far, too quickly. You've got to trust that I know what I'm talking about."

Raphael nodded. "I do, Marc. I'm just impatient."

"Nothing has changed." The man grinned. "Don't worry, Raph. You've already come leaps and bounds. I'll probably be able to remove the external fixator in another month or so, and you can _really_ take off. Until then, take my advice and don't push yourself over the brink. I think that's enough for today."

The red-masked turtle relaxed obediently. It was easier for him to listen to Marcus than almost anyone else. He'd come to appreciate and value the man's knowledge and skills a great deal over the past few months, and he didn't even feel like fighting Marc when Raphael knew he was the one in the wrong.

Marcus gave him a hand onto the side of the bed, and made sure he was steady with his crutches. "You're coming along well, Raph," he assured him. "The rate of your healing is what I'd hoped for."

The turtle gave him a disappointed look. "That sucks. I wanted to blow the average person out of the water."

Marcus laughed. "You're where I hoped you'd be for _you_. Every person is different, but I had higher expectations for you. You're even exceeding them a little."

Raphael grinned. "Well, why didn't you just say so, Marc?"

"Because I don't want you getting cocky."

"Do you still remember who you're talking to?"

Marcus shook his head at Raphael as the turtle maneuvered around the bed expertly on the crutches and headed for the door.

"You're great at what you do, Marc," Raphael said over his shoulder. "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"Sure you would have; it just would have taken longer. You need to force yourself to still stay off your feet as much as you can, Raph. I know how tempting it is for you to go tearing around the house on those crutches, but you've got to rein it in."

"You don't want me having _any_ fun, do ya?"

"I want you to have the best kind," he corrected. "The type that will put you back on the streets of New York, beating down the worst of the worst."

"I'm aching for it, man. It's _weird _to go this long without busting someone's tail. I almost feel sorry for the first guy who crosses me when we get home."

"So do I," Marc said dryly. "Now go sit down, and I'll see about rustling us up some breakfast."

"Someone's already cooking, I guarantee it. The only time that stove gets turned off is when we're all asleep."

Marcus nodded. "We're reaping all the benefits too."

"Oh, I ain't complaining, Marc. I just can't eat the way I want to, because you won't let me burn it off yet."

"You're getting good exercise in self-control."

"You're killin' me, man." He snorted as he sank onto the couch, setting his crutches to the side.

"Dada!" A tiny voice announced Olivia's presence before the red-masked turtle could see her.

Raphael craned his neck around to look for her, and saw the baby make it a couple of steps before stumbling to the ground. Karina was right behind Olivia, and helped pull the girl upright.

"She nearly walked across the whole kitchen, Raph," Karina told him. "She's doing so well."

"You _are_, Liv," Raphael agreed, scooping his daughter up as she patted his right leg. "Did you eat your breakfast already?"

"Every bit," Karina answered for her. "Your daughter doesn't like to waste food."

"_My _daughter?"

"She is, Raph. I swear she's going to be just like you."

"Nah, I'll get her in some therapy before that happens."

Karina chuckled. "Are you two hungry?" She included Marcus in the question with a glance.

"We're ready to eat," the man replied.

"Then make yourselves comfortable, boys, because we've got a guest chef today. He's been sorely missed in the kitchen."

"Now who might that be?" Marc asked teasingly.

"Do you want to meet him?" Karina grinned. "Hang on."

The woman rapped a hand against the kitchen door. "Hey, Mikey! A couple of guys want to question you about the menu."

"My hands are full, Karina," Mike's voice returned. "You tell 'em they'll eat what they get, and they're gonna _like_ it."

Raphael rolled his eyes. _Things are starting to get back to normal around here. About time too._

Just as he was making himself more comfortable on the couch with Olivia, one of the most annyoing songs known to mankind startled him out of his wits, and it appeared to be coming from his _belt_.

"What the shell?" He yanked his phone free, staring at the device as if it were possessed.

As the three Chipmunks sang in harmony, Olivia clapped her hands in approval.

"_No_," he said emphatically. "You are _not_ allowed to like that song."

Raphael's eyes narrowed when he realized it was Mike calling, but he picked up the phone to avoid another chorus of "Christmas Don't Be Late."

"Hey, Raphy. Seasons Greetings."

"When you get done cooking my breakfast, come out here so I can kill you."

* * *

><p><strong>*Thanks to Laughter's Tears for the inspiration for the ending. It nearly tickled me to death.<strong>


	92. Brothers

Leonardo refilled a couple of glasses from a two-liter of soda, and shut the fridge door behind him. When he entered the Great Room he was amused by the sight of Shunshi lying on his stomach with a pillow on the floor, kicking his legs absent-mindedly, his gaze glued to the television screen.

Raphael chuckled when he saw Leonardo's face. "I told ya the kid would dig Crouching Tiger," he said triumphantly. "This movie crosses all language barriers."

"Does he have a clue what's going on?"

"Who cares?" Raphael grinned. "The fighting is the only part that really matters."

The blue-masked turtle sat down beside his brother, and handed him one of the glasses before taking a sip of his own. As a rule Leo didn't consume very much caffeine, but everyone needed a night off occasionally.

"Where are Greg and Bran?" Leo asked. "Weren't they going to watch this with us?"

"Heff got a phone call – I think it was his boss. It sounded like Kelley might want to line something up for him."

"That would be good for him," Leo replied. "I bet Brandon is ready to get back to work too."

"You bet he is, Fearless. He's just as bored as I am."

Leonardo shook his head at his hopeless younger brother. "You're never going to slow down, are you?"

"There's slowing down, and there's _stopping_, Leo. You'd be bored stiff if you were me too."

"Why don't you just watch your movie and quit whining?" Leonardo grinned.

"Who's whining?" Raphael shot back.

"You are," Brandon supplied from the hallway. "But you're going to be _crying_ when I beat you."

The red-masked turtle snorted. "Too late for the video game rematch, Bran. The kid is engrossed in the movie."

Greg folded his arms across his chest. "I thought you were going to wait for us, Raph."

"Don't you see how Shunshi's into it? We've seen this movie a hundred times, Heff. The kid is the whole reason I turned it on; you already know what's going to happen."

Leonardo looked down at the back of the boy's head. "I only hope he doesn't get any weird ideas from the special effects. I could see him attempting some of those crazy stunts to impress someone."

"C'mon, Leo, the kid is smarter than that. You said so yourself," Raphael scoffed. "He knows the difference between what's real and what's made up. I guarantee he's not going to try soaring off the roof any time soon."

"Good, Raph, put ideas in his head." Brandon snickered.

Shunshi suddenly looked over his shoulder. "_Are all of you talking about me_?"

"_It is nothing bad, kid_," Raphael assured him. "_We are glad you like the movie. I was just telling these idiots how much smarter you are than them_." The turtle motioned toward Brandon and Greg with a wink.

Shunshi covered his mouth when he laughed and turned back over to keep watching the movie.

"What did you just say to him?" Greg demanded.

"If I wanted you to know, I would have said it in English," he replied. "And I would have used small words."

"You're a funny guy tonight, Raph," Bran returned. "Two can play at the language game."

"If you guys are planning to throw down, you need to go outside," Leonardo commented.

"You'd lose anyway, Bran," Raphael said matter-of-factly. "My girl can translate anything you say, and you know she's gonna be on my side."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Raph. I know how to handle Karina too, and I've known her longer than you."

"There's not a chance, Brandon."

"Let's get her down here and find out," the man challenged.

"Or we could sit here like normal people, and watch the rest of the movie," Leonardo suggested.

"Who's normal, Leo?" Raphael wondered. "No one around this place."

Brandon braced both arms on the couch as if he was considering vaulting over the furniture, but settled on nonchalantly walking around the sofa instead. "This movie doesn't get old."

"That's what I keep trying to tell people." Raphael sounded exasperated. "Classic movies never die."

"Right," Leo said skeptically. "I'd be more impressed if all those stunts were real."

"Not everyone can be as awesome as us, Fearless," Raphael returned. "Don't we have any more food up in this place? I'm getting a hankering for something."

"Dinner was like two hours ago," Leonardo reminded him.

His brother shrugged. "So?"

"I'll see what I can find, but it means you have to be nice to me for the rest of the night," Brandon said warningly.

"Well, forget it then. I can't accept those terms," Raphael told him.

Brandon ignored Raphael and looked at Greg. "You want something to drink?"

"Sure – whatever's in there," he replied. "No, that doesn't mean a mixture of everything in the fridge. That wasn't funny."

"It was kind of funny." Brandon laughed.

"You aren't the one who almost threw up."

Brandon repressed a smile. "I'll keep it clean."

"I'd appreciate that." Greg shook his head as Brandon headed into the kitchen. "I never got him back for that night," he muttered.

Leonardo sighed as he rested his head against the back of the couch. The bickering was refreshing in a way; it was another signal that everything was going to be all right. He was enjoying having Sayuri and the kids around, but Shunshi held his attention the most of all.

Something about the boy's boldness reminded him of a younger version of Raphael. He loved the way Shunshi wasn't overwhelmed by them, and fought for their attention any chance he could get.

Leonardo was also relieved by the distraction that the visitors provided. It was only the first week of January, and Spring felt very far away. Knowing that their home was still standing made him all the more eager to get back to New York. The presence of their guests had made the wait easier, but Sayuri was supposed to be taking the kids home in a couple of days.

He had grown fond of Shunshi and the teenage Hisui, and he also loved seeing Greg getting more face time with Sayuri. _I bet he'll make excuses to go to Okinawa left and right after this, and no one will blame him. I feel sorry for him. I can't picture what it would be like to be separated from Calley that way._

The blue-masked turtle looked at Greg, and the sandy-haired man glanced up as if he felt his gaze. "So, what was the deal with the phone call?"

"Yeah, what did Kelley want?" Raphael added.

"He's interested in lining up a couple of assignments for me."

"Are you gonna do it, man?" Raphael asked.

"Yeah, I don't see why not. Intelligence is lost without me." Greg forced a laugh. "But there's something else that Bran and I need to consider too."

"What's that?" Leonardo stiffened. There was something serious in Greg's tone.

"My boss mentioned the possibility of sending me out into the field again, and he's playing with the notion of Brandon and me teaming up on something."

"Wow. Does Kelley know what he's asking for?" Raphael snickered.

"It's for real, Raph," Greg protested. "They need someone experienced in the field, and the Intelligence skills are another plus. Things are still up in the air with the loss of our building in New York, and Kelley is just looking for somewhere else to plug us in for a while."

"Have you and Bran talked about it?" Leo asked.

"Not a lot, there hasn't been time. He's interested in learning more, and so am I. If I was going to be partnered with someone, Kat or Brandon are the only ones I'd want to work with that way. I don't think James would be too upset if her kid brother tagged along with me."

Raphael laughed. "Keep using terms like that and you're gonna regret it, Heff. Bran can take you any day of the week."

"Exactly. Why do you think I want to keep him around?"

"This wouldn't be a permanent situation then?" Leo wanted to know.

"I don't think so. I'm not interested in relocating, but I wouldn't mind doing some traveling. It's sure better than sitting behind a desk."

"I don't know how you've put up with it for _this_ long," Raphael said honestly.

"It wouldn't have been the same in the field without Kat. It would be too weird to work that closely with someone else who didn't know about you guys."

Leonardo made a face. "Something else you can blame on us."

"I don't blame—"

"I know you don't, Heff," Leonardo cut him off. "I'm just referring to the way we derail people's lives."

Greg shook his head at the blue-masked turtle. "You've never kidnapped a single soul, Leo, so no one gets derailed unless they want to be."

Leonardo smiled at the man fondly, marveling at how their family had grown in the last year. _Wow. It's been nearly a year since Olivia was born, and the mess with the Akiudo. I don't know where the months went, but they're gone. I think I'd rather spend a few more days with Takashi than go through what we did with Mike ever again. Being behind bars was easier than dealing with this._

_Now Takashi is the one behind bars, and he's going to stay there. I want to believe that Sayuri is right about the non-existent possibility of his conviction being overturned._

Leonardo broke out of thought to find Raphael staring at him. "What?"

"You got that look again, Leo."

"I'm just thinking."

"Save the insightful stuff for later, and try rotting your brain with us," his brother suggested.

_Shell, I didn't realize he noticed it like that. I guess I have been quieter than normal. Given what we've been through, I'm surprised _anyone_ has noticed. _Suddenly Raphael's eager invitation for him to join the "boys' night" made perfect sense. _He's sitting over here worried about me, _he realized_. I have to get a handle on this ridiculous sense of dread that keeps creeping up on me. It will get better. It has to._

Leonardo smiled broadly at his younger brother. "Let the rotting begin. Maybe someone should check on Brandon though. He's been gone for a while."

Greg muttered something darkly under his breath as he headed toward the kitchen. "If he's trying to screw with my head again…"

Raphael chuckled as Greg left. "You'd think those guys were siblings or something."

"Neither of them had a brother growing up, Raph. They're making up for lost time."

"Great. Then what's _our _excuse?"

The way the red-masked turtle looked at Leonardo made him feel like his brother wanted to say something else, but Raphael restrained himself. The shadow of his concern persisted for a couple of seconds, before he flashed a grin at the older turtle.

"Man, I can't wait to pull something on Mikey's shell."

"_I'm_ the one who owes him, Raph," Leonardo said firmly. "Don't go horning in on my retaliation."

"Dang, Fearless, you take too long."

"Well, it isn't like I could scheme on him in the condition he was in."

"Do me a favor, and don't go down on him until I can get a piece of the action too."

"I already told you he's mine. I'll fight you for him if I have to."

"You're gonna deny me from having some fun after everything _I've_ been through?"

Leonardo shrugged. "No one said you couldn't get in on it, but I'm getting the first crack at Mike. He's not the only one who's fair game."

Raphael grinned suddenly. "You're never more interesting than when you're trying to be devious, Bro."

"Than when I'm _trying_?" Leonardo's eye ridges rose.

The red-masked turtle stifled a laugh. "You've got it in you, Leo. It just takes longer to draw it out. Getting you to throw out the rule book is like trying to pull teeth."

"I can drop the rules when it's necessary, Raph," he insisted.

"Okay then, Fearless. We've got a goal in mind…let's not lose track of it."


	93. Success

***It's hard to believe that this journey will be over a week from today. Time flies, especially on this fic. You've almost seen it through to the "end", though I use the term loosely. Next Tuesday marks the end of Refuge, but not the end of the series. As for what's on the horizon...I just can't go there yet.**

* * *

><p>Donatello rolled upright on the mattress, and sat up on the edge of the bed. He looked over at Luke and Caleb hovering by the computer screen, and he held up his arms expectantly. "So? Do you guys see anything definitive?"<p>

Caleb threw a smile over his shoulder. "We're looking, Donny, we're just not _finding_."

It had been a little over a month since Caleb had tested the new procedure on the purple-masked turtle, which had involved using the inhibitor against the Wnt pathway, in addition to a small stem cell transplant to deal with the mutated cells already in existence.

"It's been over an hour," Donatello remarked. "Are you telling me you haven't seen _anything_?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Caleb answered. "We can't find any sign of the defective stem cells. It's good news in itself, but we have to keep screening for these cells. We can't get complacent once we leave North Carolina."

"We?" Don echoed. "Do you mean _we_, as in you and us?"

The older man nodded. "I'm moving up there, as soon as I can sell my house. All of you will be back in New York City in a month or so, and there's nothing down here worth sticking around for. Besides, Molly might fall into a fit of depression without you."

Donny ducked his head shyly. He wouldn't have admitted it out loud, but he knew he would have missed the Border Collie a great deal too. _It's weird, because I've never liked a dog that way before. But she's special._

The turtle smiled broadly at Caleb. "I hope none of us guilted you into this…but I can't say that I'm disappointed, Caleb."

"Neither am I," Luke added quietly. "Caleb, I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done over these last few months. This is one of those times when words aren't enough."

The man shook his head. "I'm happier than I ever thought I'd be again, and that's thanks enough, Luke." Caleb gazed at the blond doctor for a long moment with a bittersweet smile. "This house brings back so many memories of your parents and my times with Susan. When I look back at the lab sessions I had with your folks in this very room, it feels so appropriate to know that we've come full circle. Your parents would approve of this venture, Luke, and they would approve of your friends." Caleb gave Donatello a meaningful glance. "I believe they would have kept their secret too."

Luke nodded. "I've always imagined that they would have. I'm glad that we came here. I'm happy Lotus Salvus is _still_ a refuge…and it always will be one. Anytime we need it…it's a great feeling to know that it will be here."

"Or if we just want to visit, right?" Donatello asked warily. "I hope we don't have to be facing the end of the world as we know it to come here again."

Luke laughed. "I don't know, Donny. It's pretty hard to talk you guys into taking a vacation."

Caleb rose from the desk chair, and motioned to Donatello with his hand. "You can get up if you want. I'd like to move on to your younger brother. Wrangling him into this room should be fun."

Donatello grinned. "Leave it to me, Caleb." He drew out his phone and hit Michelangelo's speed dial.

"S'up?" the orange-masked turtle answered casually.

"You've got to see this new video I just found, Bro. You won't believe the sick move this guy used to take down his sparring partner," Donatello told him.

"I'll be there in a minute."

Don clapped his phone shut as he triumphantly dropped into a spare desk chair.

"Is it really that easy?" Caleb asked.

"Just wait," Donny offered. "In about…five, four, three, t—" Before he could finish counting, he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. "What'd I tell you?"

Michelangelo came into the room without even appearing to be out of breath.

"I'm glad you could join us, Mike," Caleb announced. "Go ahead and lay down please."

Mike's face registered confusion, then he cast Donatello a suspicious look. "You tricked me!"

"I didn't feel like getting someone to hog-tie you, Mikey. Just get this over with, okay? Haven't you been through worse ordeals in the last five months?"

"But it's _boring_," the younger turtle complained.

"Well, just because I lied to you, I'll stay here and talk to you the entire time. How's that sound?"

"It doesn't really make up for it, but it's a start." He pouted, but allowed Luke to set up the sensors nonchalantly, as if he'd been living with the condition his entire life.

Sometimes Donatello found himself marveling when he looked at his brother. The effectiveness of the new procedure was now irrefutable. For the last month Michelangelo had looked, sounded, and acted more like himself, rather than the weakened shadow of the turtle he'd become over the course of his sickness. It was an incredible feeling to see Mike with energy and vibrancy again, though they were still trying to prevent him from bouncing off the walls.

"Mike, you have to hold absolutely still," Caleb reminded him.

Donatello stifled a chuckle at the sight of Mike's mock irritation.

"The sun is shining, the dogs are running around, and I'm gonna be stuck in this room for the next two hours? What's wrong with this picture?" Mike sighed.

"Just one hour today, Mike," Caleb said apologetically. "We need to stay on top of it. Is it getting warmer out there?"

"It's not a heat wave, but it's feeling more like Spring," Mike replied, and glanced at Donatello. "I want to know exactly how you plan on entertaining me, Bro."

Don patted his arm. "I'll come up with something, Mike. We could just try picturing what it will be like to go home, and pick up where we left off."

"Hopefully not _exactly_ where we left off," Mike said morosely.

The purple-masked turtle shook his head firmly. "The Den is in good shape, Mike. Greg said that he and Bran spent another couple of hours down there yesterday. I told them not to go to the trouble, but I can't very well stop them from here, can I?"

Mike cracked a smile. "Not really. I guess you're ready to get back into your own lab, aren't you?"

Don looked around the room. "In a way, I suppose I am. The new toys are going to be fun to use, I'm not going to lie."

"They're only going to keep multiplying," Luke commented. "By the time the new lab is finished, it's going to look like some futuristic setting that no one has access to yet…but we will."

Donatello noticed Mike yawning out of the corner of his eye. "You could try getting some sleep," he encouraged him.

"I'm fine, Don. You're the one who put me in this position where I have to sit still, and my body naturally decides that it's time to shut down."

"It wouldn't hurt you either way, Mike," Luke added. "If you're tired, don't fight it."

The orange-masked turtle nodded. "Yeah, I get it, I'm still the patient. You guys won't get to pull that line on me forever."

"No longer than necessary, Michelangelo," Caleb assured him.

"Yeah, sure," Mike scoffed. "You're gonna follow us all the way to New York to keep me in line. I know how it is."

At Don's surprised glance, Michelangelo nodded.

"Yeah, he's decided he can't be parted with me, Donny. I have that effect on people."

Donatello chuckled. "He told us a few minutes ago."

"Yep, so you and Molly will get to live happily ever after," Mike teased.

"Don't start, Mikey," Don said a little crossly.

The announcement of another set of feet on the stairs had Donatello turning away from his younger brother, and focusing on the door as a 6-month-pregnant Rebecca came inside.

"What are you doing with my husband?" she asked.

"They're trying to make me talk, Beck, but I won't crack under pressure!" Mike flailed his arms dramatically.

"You're hampering what I'm trying to see with the imaging software, Mike," Caleb chided. "I liked it better when you were settling down."

"Get used to it, Caleb," Don warned him. "This is still pretty mild as far as Mike is concerned."

"Do what he says, Mikey," Becky instructed him.

Michelangelo frowned. "Here I was thinking you came to defend me, after Donny tricked me into coming up here."

"Is that true?" Rebecca made a show of giving Donny a threatening look.

"Yeah, it's true, Becky. Beat his shell for me."

Donatello laughed as the younger woman stared him down. "It was for legitimate medical reasons, as you can see."

"Then I suppose I can let you off the hook, _this_ time," she said pointedly. "But—"

"Stay still, Mike," Caleb spoke up yet again, with more patience than Donatello would have expected.

It took a couple more minutes for the younger turtle to relax into the best possible position for Caleb to get the proper scans with his imaging equipment. The lab fell into silence while Caleb and Luke deciphered the pictures that were coming back from Mike's lungs.

The quiet didn't bother Donatello like it might have before, when everything was so unsure with Mike. It was still difficult to look at his brother and truly believe that the turning point in what had seemed like an impossible battle had occurred. He had vivid memories of the moment of discovery, when he'd realized how closely Mike's case was related to that which had killed their Sensei.

_I shouldn't be thinking about that anymore_, he told himself_. But I about gave up the fight before it even started, and I still regret how I reacted._

He stole a look at Rebecca sitting by Michelangelo, who'd relented to dozing. _She's been so brave through this. That's one top-notch girl Mikey has there, and they're going to be great parents. If it was going to happen for someone else right now, I'm glad it was them. Just a couple more months, and we'll have another new life. Maybe I'll actually _be _in the room when this kid is born._

Donatello enjoyed imagining Michelangelo with a child of his own, something he knew his brother had always wanted. _I know he was secretly dreaming about what it would be like, even when we didn't think it was possible for us to have children. And then there's Jen…_

Donatello pictured the woman in his mind, recalling her own regret at not being able to get pregnant. _She hid it well after Olivia was born. I don't think anyone else was even aware of what she was going through. I hate the way she's blaming herself, as if she's actually at fault somehow. I _hate_ the far-reaching effects of her old abusers. I would throttle each and every one of them if I could. No matter what I say, it seems like a part of her is always going to feel like she's broken._

_At the same time…nothing is impossible, especially now that we've got Caleb onboard. If there's anyone that might be able to help Jenna get pregnant…It's got to be him._

Donatello let the thought trail off as the older man got to his feet. "What do you think, Caleb? Are you picking up anything in his lungs from the software?"

The older man shook his head. "Mike's lungs look good, better than I thought they would."

The orange-masked turtle opened his eyes at the news and sat up on his elbows. "Are you signing off on my permission slip, Caleb?"

Caleb's brow furrowed. "Your _what_?"

Luke laughed loudly, a sound that was both beautiful and freeing. "It's not time for permission slips yet, Mike. But this _is_ great news. We haven't been able to find any sign of the mutated cells, and they were pretty much impossible to miss before."

"What does that have to do with permission slips?" Caleb wondered.

Donatello smiled at Caleb. "You still have a lot to learn about us."


	94. Walking

"Take your time, Raph. You don't need to rush if it doesn't feel like your leg is ready to support the weight," Marcus encouraged him.

It was a nerve-wracking moment for the red-masked turtle, more so than he would have readily admitted. Despite his eagerness to walk normally, the lingering doubt in the back of his mind had caused him to put off attempting the action for a couple of days longer than he probably needed to.

It was Marcus who'd suggested that he try out both legs today, and Raphael knew the man wouldn't have done so if he didn't think he could handle it. As the turtle hesitated, Marc came to sit on the edge of the bed beside Raphael.

"You don't have to do this today, Raph. It's okay – it really is. If you don't feel ready, then it isn't the right time."

Raphael exhaled sharply. "I _want_ to, Marc, I'm just nervous. I don't want to mess up anything you've already fixed."

"The bones are united, Raph. You still have a lot of work to do on your muscles to get them up to speed. At the same time, you won't make much more progress if you don't walk at some point," he finished lightly.

Raphael studied the man's dark eyes, relieved by the understanding he found there. "You're a great doctor, Marc…and I'm ready to do this."

Marcus grinned as he got to his feet. "Good. I've got your back." The man stood to one side, prepared to offer hands-on assistance, but Raphael didn't feel crowded.

The turtle pushed his way upright from the mattress, supporting himself entirely on his right leg until he'd had a chance to shift his weight properly. Raphael gingerly tested his left leg, holding the pose cautiously to make sure nothing weird was going to happen.

"How's it feel, Raph?"

"I don't feel much of anything right now. It's pretty numb, like I haven't used it in about a year."

"It's going to be very stiff, and you'll be dealing with pain for quite a while. Try bearing a little more weight on it."

Raphael looked down and realized he was still unconsciously favoring his injured leg. He evened out his stance, sucking in air deeply as pain ricocheted through his ankle. The sensation wasn't unbearable, so he continued to push his way through it to find out how long he could stand the pain.

"How would you rate the pain factor?" Marcus asked.

"Maybe a seven. I think it'd feel better if I walked on it a bit. It's like my leg has been asleep for a long time."

"Start out slowly, but feel free to get moving." Marcus smiled reassuringly.

Raphael was incapable of forcing himself to bear full weight on his left leg, but he tried to limp as little as possible. It was a naked feeling to be without the safety of the crutches or the bars with which Marcus had been training him.

"Don't fight the limp completely, Raph," the man instructed. "Give your leg some time to work it out. I'm right behind you if you have a problem."

Raphael resisted the urge to use the wall to support himself, only briefly gripping the door frame as he crossed into the hall.

"Are you doing okay?" Marc asked.

"Yeah. I wanna keep going."

"Just keep taking it slow."

Raphael made a right turn out of the room he shared with Karina, and shuffled through a couple more tight steps before pausing to lean against the wall.

"Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?" Marcus pressed.

"No, I only need a second. I want to make it to the Great Room. I don't care if it takes me an hour."

"That's the spirit, Raph. Be aware of what your body is telling you though. If the pain gets any more severe, you need to stop."

Raphael was usually irritated by people hovering over him, but Marc's presence didn't bother him in the least. A deep-seated sense of gratitude had developed toward the man over the course of several months, as Marcus faithfully helped him avoid the formation of inappropriate scar tissue and rebuild the strength of his limbs.

The red-masked turtle continued toward the Great Room, encouraged to keep going by the sounds he could hear all the way from the hall, guiding him like a ship through fog.

"You can use the wall for some support if you need to, Raph. This _is _pretty far for your first jaunt."

Raphael grinned over his shoulder. "I'm _doing_ it though."

"Yup, and you're doing great."

The turtle paused for another moment, and noticed a small shadow cross the hallway.

"Dada!" The little turtle giggled as she jumped up and down.

"Yeah, baby, Daddy sees you." Raphael chuckled. "You're looking good on those legs, Liv."

Olivia's next hop made her lose her balance, but she didn't miss a beat as she stumbled. She continued babbling nonsensically, and immediately tried to start bouncing again.

"Is she part rabbit or something?" Marcus wondered.

"She's part _ninja_, Marc. Liv's just trying to fulfill her calling." Raphael folded his arms as the baby lingered in front of them. "C'mon, let's go in the Great Room, _Kouen_. I don't wanna trip over you."

"Olivia?" Karina's voice preceded the woman as she walked around the corner. She was visibly startled to see Raphael on his feet unassisted, but she quickly recovered with a beam.

"You found your daddy, smart girl!" Karina swept Olivia off the floor, giving Raphael a clear path to get into the next room. "How are you feeling, Raph?"

"It's okay. It hurts, and I have to take my time, but I'm up. That's not too bad, huh?"

Karina backed into the Great Room as he crossed the threshold of his goal. The numbness that had persisted through his left calf was giving way to more pain, but he was so close that he wasn't about to quit.

Raphael's arm brushed the corner of the wall as his limp became more pronounced. He could hear his youngest brother laughing about something on the television screen, but Mike's noise died the moment the orange-masked turtle laid eyes on him.

"Whoa, awesome, Bro," Mike said. "No training wheels or anything."

Raphael steadied himself on the back of the couch. "They had to come off sometime. And _now_ I'm ready to sit."

Marcus stayed near to make sure he got around the front of the couch safely, and Raphael cracked another smile.

"That's a few steps closer to freedom," he said ironically. Raphael grunted as he fought to get his left leg propped up correctly, and Marcus swiftly provided a pillow to go underneath his limb.

"You're going to start swelling again as you're using it more. You'll have to keep the icepacks handy," Marc mentioned.

"How long do you think it will be before I can run and jump?"

"That will take a few more weeks, Raph, a couple of months at least. One thing at a time, all right?"

"You're the boss," Raphael answered easily.

Michelangelo looked around the room. "Did anyone record that?"

"No, I mean it," Raphael insisted. "You've been the best, Marc. I still feel a little bad for hogging you to myself, but I wouldn't have made this kinda progress without you."

The man's smile in return was suddenly shy. "You've worked hard when you needed to, and rested on it otherwise. That's why you've come so far."

"Right. The fact that you're the best orthopedic surgeon in the country had nothing to do with it," the red-masked turtle scoffed.

"I'm not the best, Raph."

"You are to me," he said pointedly. "Seriously, man. Thank you."

Marcus looked overwhelmed, but maintained eye contact with him. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could be here."

Raphael felt Karina's hand on his shoulder, and glanced up at the woman. "Hey, Chica. What's up?"

"Calley and I need to work on a couple of things. Can I get you anything before I head downstairs?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Where's our kid?"

"With her cousin." Karina motioned to where Olivia had settled on the floor with Reina.

Raphael laughed at the sight of the two little girls banging pieces of Tupperware together. "Where do they keep getting the storage containers?"

"They're stealing them out of the kitchen. I swear one of them is playing lookout for the other." Karina shook her head. "It's only going to get worse, you realize."

"They're gonna miss being around each other 24/7," Raphael observed.

"Probably, but they'll still see a lot of each other in New York." Karina sighed softly. "It's amazing to think we'll be home in less than a month."

Raphael nodded. "I feel like it's time though. Don't you guys?" He glanced at Marcus to include the man.

"Yes," Marcus replied. "I'm afraid to see how much has changed, but the city is still standing, this we know."

"I bet you're ready to go back to your normal caseload," Raphael suggested.

"I've got no regrets from this trip, Raph. This was where I needed to be."

"We've been an even bigger and happier family than normal." Michelangelo chortled.

"Well, the bigger part definitely applies, but I'm not sure about the happier," Marcus said carefully to Mike. "At least, not until recently. We're certainly _ending_ on a happy note for both you and Raphael."

Marcus' eyes traveled across the room, and Raphael followed his gaze to where April was standing with a laptop under one arm and a pleading expression on her face.

"What's wrong, Hon?" the man asked.

"I completely crashed my hard drive."

"Donny's up in the Lab, Ape," Mike encouraged her. "If he can't save it, no one can."

"What _is_ Genius doing up there?" Raphael had to ask. "I mean, shell, hasn't he seen enough of those four walls?"

"He has to restock on everything, chemically speaking," Marc explained. "It's better for him and Luke to get the formulas set up here, so they can just take them home, and they'll be ready to go. That way Donny can focus on rebuilding the Lab on his end."

Raphael nodded as a wave of sympathy washed over him. _I sure hope the guys help Don trick it out. He deserves it after losing his Lab the way he did._

"Maybe I shouldn't bother him with this…" April faltered.

"Nah, April, he'll welcome the variety," Raphael said knowingly. _And he probably needs to take a break anyway, _he added inwardly.

Marcus got to his feet. "I'll go with you, April."

When the two of them headed upstairs, Michelangelo rose from his chair.

"Wanna play a game with me, Raph?" He offered the red-masked turtle a controller to the Wii console. "I could use a companion for cooperative hunting."

"Is this that game Becky got you for Christmas?"

"Monster Hunt Tri." Mike grinned. "It's the coolest, and it's fun to play with more than one person. One guy can set the traps for the monsters, while the other one is distracting him. All the rewards are split evenly between both players."

Raphael took the remote from him. "I'll play, as long as you don't care that I don't know what I'm doing."

"When in doubt, push all the buttons at once." Mike snickered. "It's good for a laugh if nothing else, especially if you're playing with Leo."

The youngest turtle was notorious for pulling off incredibly complex moves by accident inside different fighting video games, which he could no sooner reproduce than he could explain how he performed them to begin with. Leonardo in particular had always been irritated with Mike's haphazard method for winning spars in the games, and often gave up on a match before it was officially over.

As Raphael followed his younger brother's lead through the new game, he couldn't help but smile at Michelangelo.

The orange-masked turtle glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "What, Raph?"

"I don't think I could feel much better right now, except if I could take off running," he replied. "But I'll get there too."

"You and I gotta brush up so we're ready to take on the monsters of New York City again," Mike commented, his gaze glued to the TV screen.

"Speak for yourself, pip-squeak. I don't need to brush up. I remember exactly how to beat the tar outta someone. If I really wanna practice, though, I'll start with you."

Mike shot him a cocky look. "I'll accept that challenge, whenever you're ready to deliver on it."


	95. Rejuvenated

Michelangelo took a deep breath and released it slowly, enjoying the sense of renewal that the atmosphere seemed to infuse into his spirit. The early morning fog was clinging to the forest floor around them, and reminded the orange-masked turtle of what it might feel like to run around on an alien planet.

The novelty of being _able_ to run around without getting out of breath hadn't worn out yet. Mike was so excited he could hardly contain himself from dashing off into the distance. He cast a glance over at Donatello and found his older brother already looking at him.

"Just a little further?" Mike suggested hopefully.

The purple-masked turtle smiled. "Okay, Mikey. They _are_ expecting us to come back sometime before lunch, you realize. Are you always going to be this difficult to rein in?"

Mike stuck his tongue out at his brother. "No harder than normal, Don. Give a turtle a break, huh? I haven't had any fun in months, and I've got a lot to make up for."

Don chuckled. "Why does that strike terror in my heart?"

Michelangelo was relieved to get the opportunity to _see_ some of the Blue Ridge Mountains closer up before they had to depart. Greg was returning with the Gulf Stream in two days, and they would be leaving Lotus Salvus behind. He was ready to see the city again, but today, he was also enjoying the beautiful spring morning.

He and Donatello had made a point of taking several small trips like this one over the last couple of weeks, and Don had shown him several of the places that he and Leo had already been. Mike regretted that Raphael still wasn't up for running on the rough terrain, but the red-masked turtle was getting around the house easily, and even using the stairs now.

Michelangelo came to a stop inside a partial clearing where the sunlight was filtering through the new greenery on the trees and the lingering mist. "We _have_ to come back here," he proclaimed. "Just wrangle up everybody and the kids, and fly down here a couple of times a year. Doesn't that sound great?"

Donny nodded. "It does. This place has been a godsend in more ways than one, and I'd be sorry if we didn't get to see it again. The next time we come back, it'd be nice to just enjoy it for the refuge that it is."

Mike wiped away an imaginary tear. "You have such a way with words, Bro."

"Ha – coming from the writer. Speaking of which, has Aidan made up her mind about which guy she wants to end up with?"

"Nah. Maybe she won't end up with either of them," Mike teased, just to get a rise out of him.

"That's not funny, Mike. You didn't put her through all of that just for her to walk away empty-handed, did you?"

"Her brother is safe, isn't he?"

"Yeah, that's great, Mike, but really…You can't end the story that way. Who is Aidan in love with?"

"I guess you're going to have to wait a little longer to find out, Donny. I haven't worked out all the kinks."

Donatello scowled at him. "Put down the video game controller and _write_, Mikey. I'm going to shoot Becky for giving you that game."

Michelangelo chuckled, inwardly enjoying the new method of torturing his brother by withholding details. _Gotta keep him hungry for more._

He didn't bother arguing with Donatello a couple of minutes later, when his brother mentioned that it was time they started heading back. The fog was beginning to burn off in the morning sunlight, and Mike was starting to look forward to getting home for breakfast.

Mike stopped on the edge of the tree line to gaze at the incredible house once more. "She's such a beauty, Don. Y'sure we can't stay another month?"

Donatello gave him a wry smile as he shook his head. "How about we try to enjoy the rest of this morning?"

"Oh, all right," Mike allowed, following Don's lead as he started toward the house.

Before they got to the porch, however, Mike settled down on the ground, and patted the earth beside him. Donatello obediently lowered to the grass, stretching out both legs the same way Mike was already doing.

"You're looking good, Mike," he said with satisfaction.

"I'm _feeling_ good, Donny."

Don grinned. "I take it you want a couple more minutes to stretch in the solitude of nature before we join the madhouse?" he joked.

"I'm just taking it all in, Bro," Mike returned, more seriously than his brother had probably expected.

They lingered just off the porch as the sun traveled higher in the morning sky, and Mike swore he could sense the temperature rising. He sighed contentedly at the good feeling the workout had produced in his body, but then began wondering about breakfast again.

"What do you think they're cooking in there?" he asked Don.

His brother shrugged. "It'll be good, no matter what it is."

Goosebumps rose on Mike's arms as he sensed movement over his shoulder, but his attention was suddenly drawn by rapid movement to his _right_. Donatello was lunging to his feet, but not quickly enough to beat Raphael's head start. Mike barely had time to watch the red-masked turtle plant a firm hand on his brother's shoulder to keep him on the ground, before his _own_ vision was blotted out.

He gasped under the cold cascade that covered his head, even as he spun to try and escape Leonardo. His invisible foe was impossible to wrestle, and Mike settled for trying to rub the substance out of his eyes. The orange-masked turtle met an unexpectedly sticky residue that must have been part of a second wave. Before he could say anything, Mike heard a surprising growl out of Donatello's mouth.

"Congratulations," Don announced with a hint of anger. "I didn't think it was possible to hate this stuff _more,_ but you just proved me wrong."

Michelangelo could Raphael barely stifling a chuckle.

"I think you'll live, Bro," the red-masked turtle replied.

"I think you better back the shell up before I _forget_ I have to take it easy on you."

Raphael laughed. "Note to self: Cream of Wheat puts you on Donny's bad side."

The purple-masked turtle muttered something darkly, before addressing him again. "You're going to pay for this, Raph. _Pay_," he emphasized.

"I'm shaking in my shell, Genius."

Leonardo shoved a dampened towel into his hands, and Mike rubbed his eyes fiercely. Michelangelo shook his head at the sight of Raphael leading a somewhat sullen Donny toward the house. "Raph doesn't know what he just got himself into." He whistled.

Leonardo's guilty gaze followed the pair as they entered the house. "It's _my_ fault. I didn't know he _hated_ it, or I wouldn't have…"

Mike laughed. "Leo, he's fine. Don's just irritated enough to make it necessary for you and Raph to sleep with your eyes open for a couple of months."

"Don't tell him it was me."

The orange-masked turtle grinned deviously as he threw both arms around Leo. "Now would _I_ do something like that, Bro?"

* * *

><p>By the time Mike and Donny returned into the kitchen from cleaning up, breakfast had been in full swing for at least an hour. Jenna shook her head sympathetically as she directed the turtles to the table.<p>

"I'm sorry, babe," she said to Donatello. "I should have put two and two together when your brothers were rummaging through the cupboards."

Don waved her off. "Raph will get his, but Mikey honestly had it coming from Leo."

The orange-masked turtle pretended to give him a hurt look. "You won't be defending Leo when you find out the whole story behind his retaliatory strike."

"_What_ story?"

"Not now, Don, I think I'll save it for another day."

Jenna chuckled as Donatello's brow furrowed. "You usually have it coming anyway, don't you, Mikey? Trouble could be your middle name."

He shrugged innocently. "I'm only trying to liven up someone else's day. Is that such a crime?"

"Only when you drag _me_ into it," Don said dryly.

"There's plenty of food left," Jenna mentioned. "Did you guys have a good run?"

"Yeah, we ended up going a little further than we planned," Donatello replied, relaxing as he wrapped his hand around the mug she'd just set in front of him.

Jenna gazed at him wistfully. "For _your _sakes, I'm kind of sorry we have to go back."

The purple-masked turtle nodded. "Our freedom is definitely more limited in New York, but none of us are ready to call it quits. You want to go home, don't you, Jen?"

"Wherever I am with you _is_ home, Don," she reminded him.

Michelangelo grinned at the adoring way his older brother looked at the young woman. _Those two have stood by each other through so much _stuff_. As much as they love each _other_, I hope they get a shot at a kid too._

Jenna had never said a word about her desire to have a baby in Mike's earshot. In fact, the young woman had taken intense pains to communicate how happy she was for both Karina and Rebecca. To the orange-masked turtle, her clear emphasis on reinforcing how glad she was for the other women was proof to Mike that she wanted it too.

_She just feels like she has to hide it, for whatever reason._

He knew the young woman well enough that he recognized what she was trying to do, without even being forced to ask Donatello about it. A wave of sadness washed over him, but Mike tried hard to squelch it. _Bigger miracles have happened, right? I shouldn't even be alive. Shell. That's scary to think about. If the docs hadn't found a solution, I'd already be dead. _Mike shivered involuntarily at the thought.

"Mike?" Jenna's amused tone broke his serious contemplation. "If you don't want your breakfast, I'm sure Molly and Noah would be happy to take it off your hands."

He hadn't even noticed that Jenna had set the plate in front of him, or that the two border collies were hovering hopefully at the edge of the table.

Mike grinned. "Do I come and beg from you guys when _you're_ eating?" Yet he took pity on the "starving" animals by breaking a slice of bacon in half, and tossing a piece to each of them. "Now, that's it. Go give the googly eyes to Donny, because I couldn't care less."

"Stick to your guns," Caleb advised from the door. "They'll walk all over you if you let them."

"Good morning, Caleb," Donny greeted the man.

"Hello, everyone," he said pleasantly. "I understand I already missed some fun by sleeping in for the first time in three years."

Donatello snorted. "That depends on your definition of 'fun.'"

Michelangelo kept his snicker to himself, because he knew how much his brother really _did_ detest Cream of Wheat.

"Let me fix you a plate, Caleb," Jenna offered.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. I need to get on the road shortly."

"You're leaving already?" Mike squeaked.

Caleb nodded. "I have to get a jump on packing. I won't have to pack the whole house at least, because a lot of things never even came out of boxes from moving in a few months ago."

"Geesh, and now you get to turn around and sell it?" Don groaned. "That's not inconvenient or anything."

"The old way isn't enough now, Donatello. A life with nothing but _work_ won't satisfy me. I don't see that as a bad thing."

He cast a smile toward the orange-masked turtle, and Mike tried to smile at Caleb normally. Neither he nor any of his brothers were comfortable with the way their friends often had to bend so far to be close to them, but Mike knew better than to protest.

_None of 'em do it because they have to. We've never forced anyone to follow us, or tried to tell them what to do. Can we help it if we're so lovable?_

The light thought broke his somber brooding, and he instantly reached for his fork to dig into his pancakes before they got any colder.

"There isn't very much of a middle ground with us, Caleb," Donatello warned. "Either nothing is happening, or we're on the brink of insanity."

"I've traveled a rather unpredictable path myself between research and discovery, but it was always performed in the protected environment of the laboratory. I took my first free steps in years in your presence, and I'm not ready to go back to prison." Caleb rested a hand on Donatello's shoulder in an almost fatherly gesture. "I've heard people talk about being ruined for the norm, but I never understood what they meant until now."

Michelangelo laughed out loud. "If you're searching for the most unique experiences in your life, you've come to the right crowd, Caleb. Welcome to the family."


	96. Unsettled

Walking around their underground Den produced a strange feeling inside Leonardo. Unless he entered the Lab, it looked as if they'd never left to begin with. He could see the hard work that Tim, Greg, and Brandon had put into fixing things and cleaning up, to make for an easier move when they returned to New York.

It felt good to be home, but it was also bittersweet; the ordeal the city had been through was still visible on the surface. Though the blue-masked turtle had yet to speak of it out loud, he felt like his peace could have been permanently affected by the disaster. The inner calm that had supported him for years had been shaken, and he wasn't sure how to get it back.

The disquiet had only been a tiny note in the background in the months right after the Akiudo had been disbanded, as he had struggled with dreams of the gang and questioned the decision he'd made. The earthquake had shattered his peace further, and the situation with Michelangelo felt like the nail in the coffin.

Leonardo had assumed that things would be settled within once Mike had received a clean bill of health, and even more so when they were able to return home. Yet the foreboding sensation still pursued him, like a bloodhound that had captured his scent and would not give him rest.

He paused from his pacing in the hallway to stare at the empty place where his Sensei's walking stick was supposed to be. _That's what I was going to do, _he realized. Leo returned to the old room he and Calley shared, and dug inside an oversized duffel bag that was still on the floor.

Leonardo retrieved the walking stick from where he'd stowed it for safekeeping and took it back out to the hall. As he pressed his father's stick into its normal place of honor, he heard footsteps behind him.

"I was wondering where that got to," Raphael commented.

"I grabbed it before we evacuated," Leo explained. "I couldn't bear to leave it behind, not knowing if we'd ever be back. You're not doing too much, are you, Bro? How does the leg feel?"

"It's okay. I should probably get off of it before too long." The red-masked turtle studied him closely as he spoke. "Leo, are you…" He hesitated, as if searching for words. "Something's different with you. I can't put my finger on it yet, but you're different."

Leonardo was tempted to give him the bravest face he could muster, but hiding from his brothers was an unbearable chore. "I _feel _different," he acknowledged. "I can't escape this sense that something's not right. It's never left me completely, not since we finished things in Okinawa. I think the earthquake and Mike being sick made it worse, but even now…I feel like I ought to be happier, Raph."

His brother nodded slowly, waiting for Leonardo to continue.

"I'm glad to be home," he went on. "I'm happy that the root of this condition has been located, and that no one else will get sick the way that Sensei or Mike did. I'm relieved that Becky's doing fairly well with the baby. Yet at the same time, I still feel like I'm holding my breath for something to happen. It's always there, day and night, no matter what I'm doing."

Raphael rubbed the back of his head, a sure sign that his brother was at a loss for words or encouragement. "Leo, I don't know…" he faltered. "Maybe you've gotten overprotective or jumpy because of the way everything went wrong in Okinawa, or maybe it's got more to do with Liv. Do you really think we're in danger here?" he asked seriously.

Leonardo shook his head. "It's not like that, Raph. I don't feel danger looming directly over my shoulder. It's just this constant blip on the radar in the back of my mind, telling me I'm supposed to be doing something."

"What are you supposed to do, Leo?"

"I can't figure that out. But you asked what was different, and that's it in a nutshell."

A shadow of worry crossed Raphael's face, and his brother struggled to hide it. "I dunno, Leo. Maybe you have to wait a little longer for things to settle down or something. The memory of the Akiudo isn't going to just disappear."

"It's been over a year, Raph. A year since we went to Japan, and Takashi was put behind bars. In what rational world should I still be nervous about a group that no longer poses a threat?"

"No one said feelings are rational, Fearless, or that there's always a good reason to have 'em. You can work out until you _feel_ like you're gonna die, but you've never passed away during training, right?"

Leo cracked a smile. "Not that I'm aware of. I've kind of assumed all along that this was only in my head – that's why I haven't said anything about it. It would be easier to deal with this if I could explain it."

Raphael shrugged. "You're the fearless leader of our group, and we've been through more than our fair share of excitement, Leo. I call that a good reason."

The nickname of "Fearless" felt less appropriate than normal to Leonardo, but he chose not to mention it. The blue-masked turtle automatically smiled more widely when Olivia toddled into the hallway, and tapped her father's leg.

"Yeah, _Kouen,_ what can I do for ya?" Raph asked good-naturedly.

Her fingers grasped the leather pad bound around his knee, tugging until it looked like she was trying to rip it off.

"Easy, Liv," he chided gently. "You're gonna break it. You're too strong for your own good, Kid." Raphael scooped the baby turtle up, boosting her into the air so that she giggled.

Leonardo reached out a hand to pat Olivia's shell as she settled into Raphael's arms. "If she keeps growing at this rate, she'll be taller than us before she's a teenager."

Raphael grinned. "She's got her Mama's height. I'm scared to think how much she's gotten from _me_."

"Well, you'd be able to understand where she was coming from better than anyone else."

"Liv isn't gonna believe that I know what I'm talking about, Leo," Raphael scoffed.

"Maybe she won't have to learn everything the hard way," Leonardo suggested.

"I can dream for her I suppose."

Michelangelo's loud laughter interrupted what the blue masked turtle had been about to say, and Raphael winced openly.

"Can you remind me why I missed hearing that so much?" his brother asked.

"Because you love your little brother more than life itself," Leonardo asserted.

Leo peered around the corner of the hall into the living area to see what was going on. Rebecca was partially curled up laying down on two of the couch cushions, while Mike was sitting on the other end.

"Did you hear the sound that one made, Beck? It was priceless!" The orange-masked turtle motioned toward the TV screen depicting the game with which he'd recently become enamored.

"You have to admit, it's nice to see him acting normal." Leonardo grinned.

Olivia was already squirming a little in Raphael's arms as she looked over the turtle's shoulder.

"All right, you little fugitive, don't get into any trouble," Raphael instructed her.

He'd no sooner put Olivia down than Tiger tore across the living area, as if some sixth sense had warned the cat that the baby had been unleashed. Olivia giggled as she stumbled after the cat, coming nowhere near catching Tiger.

"I feel bad for your cat, Raph." Leo shook his head. "She's the only one left to terrorize on a regular basis now that Reina's above ground and we don't have the dogs around."

"She'll have another cousin soon," Mike pointed out from the couch.

"Heh. I can't wait to see what she thinks of having a second baby around here." Raphael snorted.

Leonardo's silent gaze rested on Rebecca for a moment. The woman looked exhausted, but content. The blue-masked turtle knew she hadn't gained the weight she should have during the pregnancy, but he was trying to stay positive. _The docs still believe that she's in a good place. Becky isn't struggling with any bleeding or signs that she's going to lose the baby. All she has to do is make it through the next two months, and she'll be in the clear. Maybe then I'll feel like I can relax again._

The lights dimmed for an instant, and Leonardo stiffened. They came back on full power, and he immediately looked in the direction of the lab apprehensively. "I think I'm going to check on how Donny's doing."

"Good idea, Fearless. Make sure he ain't gonna blow something up." Raphael smirked.

Leonardo trotted across the living area, side-stepped Olivia, and knocked on the door to the lab.

"Come in," his younger brother called.

Something about the sight of the purple-masked turtle knee-deep in wiring made Leonardo extremely nervous. "Um…everything okay, Bro?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sure. I temporarily overloaded a circuit breaker, but it's fine now."

"This project looks a little complicated," Leo commented. "Are you sure you don't want to wait on it until we're settled in?"

"Our friends already did the grunt work for me, Leo. All that's left is installation, and a lot of it. I'm good, Leo. I enjoy this kind of work."

Leonardo sank down to the floor beside him. "Don't you _ever_ get tired of this technical stuff?"

"Mmm…not really. Do you get tired of training?"

"Touché." Leonardo chuckled. "This place doesn't look bad. It's certainly better than when we left."

"For sure. I'm going to have to find a way to thank the guys for coming down here ahead of us. They made the transition so smooth for me. The space is useable, and all I have to do is fill it."

Leonardo nodded, sighing softly as he gazed around the lab. He could remember the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he'd had the day of the earthquake, when he'd discovered the devastation of the space that was so vital to Donny. He felt his brother looking at him, and turned his head to acknowledge him.

"You've done good, Don," he said. "You've done really good. I know these last few months weren't easy for you."

The purple-masked turtle shook his head. "I can't take credit for almost any of it. Marcus took point with Raph, and we have Caleb to thank for Mikey, and _all _of us."

"You never give yourself enough credit for the things you do, Don," Leo replied. "You've always been that way."

"I think it's easier for all of us to focus on our weaknesses, rather than our strengths, Leo. Personally, I feel like these events brought out some of my weakest links…and I only hope that I actually learned something from it to help me in the future."

Leonardo rested an arm around his shoulder. "I wish you could see things from our perspective, Don. You'd never doubt yourself."

"That's funny," he answered. "I feel like I could say the same thing to you."

Leonardo grinned as he looked back down at the wiring. "Can I help you untangle some of this? It looks like you have a mess on your hands."

"Sure, Leo. I'd never turn down help from our glorious leader," he quipped.

"Do I detect a note of sarcasm?"

"From _me_, Leo? Never."

Leonardo crossed his legs as he settled into a more permanent position on the floor, and reached for the closest pile of wiring in front of him. "I can only imagine how excited you must be about this baby."

Donatello gave him a soft smile. "Why do you think I'm so eager to get things set up properly?"

"Because you're a workaholic?"

"You can turn that finger around, Leo," he reminded him.

Leonardo laughed. "So we're both obsessive in our own ways."

Donny nodded. "We've got more in common than we ever realized, Leo."


	97. Hunting

(Four Months Later)

Laughter bubbled up from deep inside of the red-masked turtle as he landed out of a triple flip onto the slightly slanted surface of a rooftop, and slid easily to the second level. He threw a glance over his shoulder, and picked out the shadowy silhouette of one of his brothers. Judging by the Tarzan-esque yell that followed, he had no question of whom it was.

Raphael gave the orange-masked turtle a menacing look as Mike nimbly landed beside him. "You know we _are_ supposed to be workin' here," he said accusingly.

"You didn't see my loft on that jump! It was a thing of beauty! It was—"

Raphael stretched to clap a hand over his younger brother's mouth. "It was too _loud_, bonehead. Fearless is gonna ream you out when we get home."

Michelangelo shrugged in an unconcerned fashion, and Raphael had a hard time pretending to be truly irritated with him. It felt so _good_ to run and be free on the long-missed rooftop playground, that even Mike's minor annoyances couldn't ruin his night.

Raphael didn't hear the approach of his next brother, and only became aware of Leonardo as he was vaulting onto the tiled surface beside them. The blue-masked turtle fixed Mike with a testy look and shook his head.

"Work and play can co-exist peacefully, Mike, but that was overboard." Leonardo only spared the younger turtle a momentary lecture, before focusing on the ground below them.

Raphael noticed his older brother's hand hovering near the ear piece for his radio, hesitating. "What are we waiting on, Leo? Where's Donny?"

"He's got a better vantage point from his position, so I told him to stay put and direct us. There are a few of them down there, and we need time to cover them correctly. Don's going to let me know when they're in the perfect spot."

"No way a bunch of kids have anything on us, Leo," Raphael scoffed.

"That isn't the point, Raph. As it stands right now, they could easily scatter. We want to box them in, so there's no opportunity for any of them to escape."

"True that." Mike grinned. "It's annoying when the bad guys get away."

Raphael settled in to wait, though he would rather have already been in motion. He watched Leonardo rather than the street level, looking for some signal that his brother was tensing, or getting ready to move.

Silence prevailed as they lingered, and the red-masked turtle switched from watching Leo to planning his own dismount from the building. The paranoia of reinjuring his left leg was fading, but part of Raphael felt like he might be looking more readily before he leaped in the future. _A little advance strategy never hurt anyone._

"How many?" Leonardo's soft voice cut the silence like a knife. "Good. We'll corral them that direction. Keep an eye on things for a couple more minutes, then head down to join us."

Raphael felt like pumping his fist, but he reined in his enthusiasm with a grin.

Leonardo nodded at him and Michelangelo. "Let's go. We're cutting behind them so they won't have a chance to backtrack. There's an alley and a dead-end up ahead. If we can block the side street, they'll have nowhere left to go."

"Sounds like a plan, Fearless." Raphael gripped the pommels of his sais, although he didn't expect to actually use them on some insignificant street punks. _It's almost a pity. What's it gonna take to rustle up a worthwhile fight around here?_

Leonardo began to descend and Mike moved to follow him, leaving Raphael to bring up the rear. He swung down from the roof with careful precision, a stark contrast to the reckless abandon to which he'd given way in the past. He sprung off a window ledge to reach a ladder hanging off a fire escape, and shimmied further down before making the leap to the street.

His skin tingled as he heard the voices of their quarry nearby. "Is someone gonna volunteer for alley duty?" Raphael whispered.

"Donny is the closest one to it," Leo returned. "He'll make sure it's blocked off. All we have to do is focus on herding them toward the dead end."

"No sweat, Leo," Raphael replied.

They remained motionless around the side of the building, until the group of youth they'd been trailing for a few blocks started filtering past them. With another nod from the blue-masked turtle, they fanned out behind the teenagers, intent on not allowing any of them a chance to bolt. They'd arrived too late to stop the assault on two innocent people that night, but _not _too late to clean up after the thugs who'd then proceeded to rip their victims off.

Raphael's eyes narrowed in the wan moonlight as he noticed one of the young men toss what appeared to be a ring up in the air, and catch it in his outstretched palm.

"That dude was way too ugly to marry her anyway." The kid snickered. "We just did that girl a huge favor. Maybe we beat some sense into her."

The red-masked turtle growled under his breath. _We're about to beat some sense into _your_ sorry tails. _He watched Leonardo out of the corner of his eye, making no move toward accosting the teenagers until he saw his brother's gait picking up. _Show time_.

Two of the boys were already turning and taking notice of Leonardo, so Raphael felt free to speak up. "Hey, fellas, we got a little problem here I think. You've got some stuff that doesn't belong to you, and you really hurt some people tonight. That don't sit well with us."

"Back off, man, you don't know who you're dealing with!" the young man with the ring spat contemptuously at Leonardo as he calmly approached.

In the low light, it was clear the teenagers had yet to realize whom they were actually facing down, and Raphael was determined to enjoy the introduction.

"You don't know who _you're_ dealing with," Leonardo corrected. "We don't need to fight, but you're not going anywhere either."

"Says _who_, shorty?" the same teen demanded. Without any warning the young man took a swing at Leonardo, which the oldest turtle easily evaded without even moving his feet.

The blue-masked turtle caught the teenager by the wrist and spun him around so that the boy's back was crushed against his plastron. "Like I said, you're not going anywhere."

There was a surge toward them as the young men came to the defense of their spokesman, and Raphael was only too happy to meet them. He ducked under the reach of a tire iron, and caught the youth behind the legs to trip him up. The teen had been in the process of swinging the tire iron a second time, and gasped in surprise as he hurtled toward the earth. Raphael plucked his weapon out of mid-air with one hand, and nicked a glancing blow off the boy's jaw with the other. He used the proper amount of force to knock him out, without breaking anything in the process.

He turned to look for his brothers, and smirked as he watched Michelangelo spin a guy around using nothing but his pony-tail. Five of the thirteen were already on the ground, and the rest of them didn't appear so interested in fighting anymore. As they took flight straight toward the dead-end, Raphael caught Leonardo's eye with a feral grin.

They caught up with the runners in seconds, and Raphael seamlessly warded off the last-ditch effort attack of three teens at once, enjoying the exercise of avoiding their attempted blows and tiring them out. When he'd had enough of keep away, he lashed out both fists at the young men on either side of him, and snorted at the way they almost hit the ground simultaneously.

The third cringed like he was going to back down, and Raphael gave him a warning look. The boy dropped his fists in surrender, but when Raphael eased his own stance, the teen launched at him. The red-masked turtle's foot landed in his stomach before he'd even cleared the ground, and he followed it with a second blow to the teen's rib cage.

"Wrong choice, punk."

Raphael gazed around with a sense of satisfaction at the other bodies his brothers had dealt with, and grinned as Donatello trotted up to join them.

"Man. I feel gypped," the purple-masked turtle complained.

"Don't wanna hear it, Genius," Raphael replied. "You're the one who had to play the eye in the sky. It ain't our fault you were too slow."

Donatello didn't even acknowledge the comment as he drew out his cell phone. "I'll call it in."

Raphael rested his head in one hand as they waited for signs of the police arriving. It had become a standard practice of theirs to hang around a crime scene for a little while, as long as their safety permitted it, to make certain that the police picked up all their "packages."

Michelangelo was antsy, and Raphael didn't blame him for a change. _Shell, I swear he just wants to get home to watch his kid sleep. Ever since Nate was born, he barely lets him out of his sight._

The announcement of approaching sirens was all the orange-masked turtle needed to hear. "Can we go?" he asked Leonardo.

"Just another minute or so," Leo soothed him.

At the first sight of police cars Leonardo motioned with his head, and all four turtles broke away from the rooftop from which they'd been watching. They picked up speed as they headed away from the scene, leaving the authorities to finish what they'd wrapped up for them. Leo was leading the pack, and when he suddenly stopped, Raphael fell back with his other brothers.

Raphael was about to ask what was up when he realized that his oldest brother had his phone pressed to his ear.

"You're _what? _Why didn't you just call?" Leonardo's tone rose surprisingly. "I don't see why... No, we're still around. We don't like to leave until we know they're being picked up…Maybe…Let us talk it over for a couple minutes."

As Leonardo clapped the phone shut, Donny crowded in beside him.

"Who was that, Leo?" Don asked.

"It was Kelley. He's rigged it so the local 911 operators notify him when they get a 'Phantom' call."

"How'd he get your number, Fearless?" the red-masked turtle demanded.

"I _gave_ it to him before we left the city, Raph," Leonardo said quietly. "And he wants to see you."

Raphael squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know, Leo. What do you think? Is it safe to trust this guy?"

Leonardo shook his head. "I'm not sure. He sounded genuine, and he told me where he was going to be waiting. Kelley said that he would hang out for an hour, and we could decide whether or not we're coming down to meet him. Mike, you could go ahead and head home, in any case."

Michelangelo shrugged. "We're already here, so let's stick together. Do you think he's on the level?"

"He stuck his neck out to help get us off the island," Donatello pointed out. "He also made the call to expedite the medical equipment we needed for Raph."

"Well, then…let's check out if he's really alone, and find out what he wants," Raphael suggested. "It'd be better than having him try to trail us all over the city, Leo."

Leonardo took a right, leading them off down another side street closer to the harbor. They waited on the outskirts of the shipyard for several minutes, watching for signs of movement on the ground. Raphael wasn't about to take any chances, even though he wanted to get home too.

When Donatello confirmed that there weren't any other heat sources present, Raphael shot a resigned look at the waiting figure of Matthew Kelley, and glanced at Leonardo.

"You want me to come, Raph?" Leo asked.

Raphael wasn't sure why he did, but he readily agreed. The two older turtles made their way to the pavement, and silently approached Kelley without any further delay. The man jerked with surprise when they appeared behind him, without a single sound to announce their arrival.

A curse leaped to Kelley's mouth before he could cut it off, and he exhaled shakily. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Sorry," Leonardo replied. "We have to be careful."

Kelley nodded, his gaze shifting to take in Raphael.

The red-masked turtle looked back at him steadily. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I…" Now that they were here, proper words seemed to be escaping the man. "Greg told me that you were all right, but I wanted to see you with my own eyes."

"We've got good doctors," Raph replied. "They fixed me up, and got me back on my feet."

"And back in action," Kelley stated dryly.

"I told you we'd be back, Director," Leonardo said evenly.

"Yes, you did." Matthew's eyes never left Raphael. "I'm glad you're okay. That was an intense day back at Javits, and I still feel like I didn't thank you properly. I owe all of you my life."

"Is that the only thing you need to say to us?" Raphael asked cautiously.

"Just watch your backs," Kelley warned. "I know you've done well at avoiding notice in the past, but don't start taking anything for granted." The man shifted nervously on his feet. "Ignoring what's happening under my nose isn't going to be easy. If I didn't have faith in your intentions, I wouldn't be able to simply stand by."

"But you _are_, right?" Raphael's tone took on an edge.

"I don't have a choice, do I? It's that or visit your mother ship. Isn't that how it goes?"

Raphael surprised himself by laughing. "I appreciate what you did too," he told the man. "I get that you don't wanna be involved, but that call you made was a lifesaver. You helped deliver me from a world of hurt, if nothing else."

"It was something I had to do," Kelley replied. "It's not right that you could put yourself in that much danger for someone else, and not get the help you deserve. I wish I could have done more."

"You did plenty," Leo said. "We're going to honor our agreement. We won't darken your doorstep, Director."

The look in Kelley's eyes was wistful for a moment, before he became impassive again. "Be careful out there. The city is just as violent as it ever was."

Leo nodded. "We are, Director. We stick together as a team."

"That's good. Thanks for meeting me – I don't want to take up a lot of your time."

Raphael sensed the man was ready to run by his changing posture.

"Go ahead," Leo urged him.

As Matthew turned, he looked over his shoulder one more time. "If I was allowed to say it, I'd tell you I'm glad you're back."

"We won't tell on you." Raphael snickered at the man's retreating form.

Leonardo patted his arm. "Let's go home."

* * *

><p><strong>*No...you haven't seen the last of Kelley. Not by a long shot.<strong>


	98. Yoshio

Michelangelo's ears were sharply attuned for any sounds the moment he walked into the Den. He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs for a few seconds before going to the second level. Everything was quiet. He didn't hear anything as he slipped past the room Raphael shared with Karina, and then that which belonged to Olivia.

He looked back to see his red-masked brother coming up the stairs, and waved good night to Raphael. Mike turned the doorknob to his bedroom as carefully as he could, and snuck into the room past the bassinet where the two-month old turtle was sleeping.

As he silently shifted into bed guided by the small nightlight, Rebecca stirred despite his best effort not to wake her.

"Mikey?" she whispered.

"Well, it's not the tooth fairy."

Becky raised her head to look at him. "How did you do out there tonight?"

"Good – we saw a lot of action…and Kelley tracked us down."

Her breath caught in her throat, and he held up a hand reassuringly. "It was okay, Beck. Leo doesn't think the guy means us any harm. Shell, he might even be our friend if things weren't so complicated."

"Then what did he want?"

"To see how Raph was doing, and to remind us to be careful."

She smiled faintly. "You can't be reminded of that too many times."

"How's Nate been?"

"He's been asleep the whole time you've been gone. He'll probably want to eat in another couple of hours or so."

Michelangelo nodded. "I'm here now, okay? Daddy's on duty."

Rebecca's fingers lightly brushed his cheek. "Did I tell you he was holding his head up again earlier tonight?"

"When did he do that? How come I keep missing it?"

The young woman giggled softly. "You're bound to catch it one of these times, Mike." She gazed at him quietly before going on. "You look tired."

"It's a _good_ tired," he answered. "An 'exhausted but happy and satisfied' kind of tired. We did a lot of running tonight, more than I have since early last year."

"You've still got to watch it, don't you?"

"I am, Beck, I'm not gonna overdo it. Why don't you go on back to sleep? I didn't mean to wake you up."

The curly-haired woman brushed her lips over his before snuggling into the crook of his arm. Mike rested his head on his pillow, and the strong desire for sleep came over him in the blink of an eye.

Peace was a welcome companion as his body began to wind down, and his thoughts started to drift. Though he was physically tired, his mind wasn't ready to relinquish its activity. The last four months had seen more changes and more joy than he knew life could contain.

The orange-masked turtle thought he knew what to anticipate when Nathaniel was born. Despite his high expectations, the baby had exceeded them all. Mike felt like he'd been on a consistent adrenaline rush that made it hard to keep his feet planted on the ground.

He would have held the baby constantly if it wasn't necessary to share Nate with Rebecca and occasionally do other things, such as sleep, eat, and train. None of those things seemed as important as they used to. Being with Nate and Rebecca was more fulfilling to him than anything else he did.

Mike yawned as he felt Rebecca's breath evening out next to him. He gazed down at the woman as she fell back asleep, admiring her with silent affection. He was tempted to brush a stray curl from the side of her face, but knew that he'd probably disturb her if he did. Instead he exhaled deeply, marveling at the ease with which his chest performed the action.

_Man, this time last year…I don't even want to think about how hard that was to do. I'm so glad to be _here_, instead of back there. I probably ought to get some sleep while the baby is settled down._

Mike grinned as he remembered one of Karina's first words of wisdom for Becky after Nate had been born. _You sleep when the baby sleeps. Better advice has never been given._

Michelangelo kept his eyes closed as he cleared his mind, and let the peace overtake him.

* * *

><p>Mike heard the baby turtle stirring, but by the time he was sitting up, Becky had already hopped to her feet from her side of the bed.<p>

"Beck? I can go," he offered.

The young woman stopped by the bassinet to lift Nate out. "Here, take him, Mikey. I'll be back in a couple minutes with a bottle."

Mike nodded as he accepted the blanket-wrapped bundle from her, and glanced at the glowing numbers on the clock. It was nearly 4am. "You did pretty good, buddy," he told the fussing turtle. "Mommy's getting it, okay?"

He carefully supported the baby against his shoulder with one hand, as he turned on a lamp with the other. Mike continued trying to soothe Nate while Becky was gone.

"I know, it's hard being a baby and having to wait on everyone else. But you're okay, Nathaniel, Mommy's got your bottle covered, and I've got _you_."

Nate rolled his head toward the sound of his voice, and his eyes opened to look up in the picture of innocence that Mike couldn't resist. The perfect irises were the same color as Rebecca's, which could never completely decide to be either blue or green. Nate appeared to be studying him, and Mike swore he could see intelligence in his gaze.

_I hope he takes after Becky in that department – that'd be cool._

Michelangelo was resting against the headboard with the baby cuddled tightly in his arms when Rebecca returned from the kitchen. As she handed him the bottle, he shook his head.

"The point in saying I was on duty was to get _you_ to sleep," he mentioned.

The young woman smiled. "I can't sleep through him, Mike. Besides, I'm trying to enjoy Nate while he's this small. We know that won't last."

Mike grinned. "Not with me as his dad. He's gonna grow up big and strong, but right now, he's just our baby."

Rebecca leaned against the headboard beside him, and laid a hand over the back of Nate's head. "He reminds me of you already."

Mike met her eyes. "Really? I see a lot of _you_ in him. He's got brains like his Mommy."

"You're smart too, Mikey."

"I'm not the one who knows like ten languages."

"It isn't that many, and that doesn't prove anything. I just have a good memory."

"Sure, Beck, that's all it is." Mike snorted, tapping the bottom of the bottle to keep Nathaniel interested.

Rebecca's arm came around his neck, and he turned his face to kiss her.

"He represents the best parts of both of us, Mike."

Mike nodded, smiling when Nate made a contented sound. "Could we get much luckier than this?"

She shook her head, focusing first on him, then on the baby. "I don't think so, Mike. I really don't."

* * *

><p>Michelangelo felt a little sore as he traipsed down the stairs the next morning, but nothing could have wiped the smile from his face when he was greeted by an overeager border collie at the bottom.<p>

"Look out, Noah, coming through!" he warned the dog.

On second thought he caught the dog by his collar, tugging him carefully out of the path of his wife who would be coming down with the baby in a minute. The appearance of the animal could only mean that Caleb had arrived early.

Mike's eyes roved the living area, until he spotted the man standing with Donatello. The orange-masked turtle hurried their direction, breaking the personal space barrier in less than five seconds.

The older man chuckled as he embraced the turtle in return. "You're the only person I've ever met who could match Molly and Noah's enthusiasm for a greeting."

"Get used to it." Mike laughed. "It's great to see you."

Caleb took a step back to scan the turtle from head to toe. "You look incredible. No one would guess what you've been through in the last year."

Mike shrugged. "I bounce back."

Donatello shook his head. "To put it mildly. You haven't seen anything yet, Caleb. Mike is usually our own living example of the Energizer Bunny." Donny's gaze rested on him judiciously. "You were moving a little slower down those stairs than usual. Are you feeling anything negative relating to our jaunt last night?"

"I'm sore," he admitted. "But we were busy. I didn't have any problems when we were caught up in the action; I'm just feeling it a little this morning."

Caleb nodded. "Your excellent physical condition has helped you recover more quickly than you would have otherwise. Many people take at least a year to recover from these kinds of stem cell transplants. You shouldn't hesitate to still take it easy somewhat."

"I'll make a point of not jumping off any buildings today," Mike returned.

"You'll _what_?" Caleb stared at the turtle like he was crazy.

"Just wait," Becky called from behind Michelangelo. "You're going to have a coronary when you find out what these guys actually _do_ topside, Caleb."

The man was too distracted by the baby in her arms to laugh. "Is that your boy?"

Rebecca beamed. "This is Nathaniel Yoshio Hamato."

Caleb admired the little turtle appropriately. "He's beautiful. That's an interesting name. Does it mean anything special in Japanese?"

Becky chuckled as she exchanged a look with Mike. "It's kind of funny, because the names go together better than we could have planned, and it was a complete accident. He's named Nathaniel after my father, and when you combine it with his middle name, it means 'God has given joyful life'."

Caleb smiled more widely as he brushed his fingers over Nate's arm. "It's perfect. It suits the both of you, and I'm sure it will suit him."

"Would you like to hold him?" Rebecca offered.

"May I?"

"Mmhm. He can hold his own head up, but make sure you still watch it."

Caleb nodded seriously as Becky handed the baby turtle to him. Mike could tell the man was holding his breath as he gazed at Nathaniel in amazement. "Your children, Olivia and now Nathaniel, they're nothing short of miraculous," he asserted. "It's an honor to be here to witness, and share some small part in it."

Michelangelo's arm encircled the man's back. "A small part, sure. You just saved my life, and probably the rest of my brothers at the same time, but no biggie."

Caleb glanced up at the orange-masked turtle. "I'm only happy to be here, Mike."

"Yeah, early," Mike remarked. "What happened with your closing?"

"The deal went through in North Carolina faster than I anticipated. I can't get into the new place in Chelsea for another two weeks, but I was done waiting around to see this little guy." Caleb looked back at the baby, and Nate gurgled as the man spoke directly over him. "I haven't felt this way about a baby since…well, not since Luke was born."

Donatello motioned for Caleb to sit down. "What _was_ Luke like as a baby?"

"He was laid back, for the most part. Didn't get ruffled too easily, and he was satisfied to play with his own little toys without someone being forced to entertain him."

Mike nodded. "Yep, that sounds like our Doc. So you're still gonna leave the dogs with us until you can get into the house, right?"

"I feel like it's an inconvenience—"

"We like having them around," Don said quickly.

"And Molly wants a proper reunion with Donny." Mike snickered.

"You know what? It wasn't funny six months ago, and it isn't funny now," Donatello said dryly.

"Maybe not to _you_." Mike snorted, and Nate's head instantly turned, searching for the source of the sound. "I'm still in the room, buddy," he volunteered.

Mike sat down on the couch beside Caleb, where the baby would be able to see him. Blue-green eyes were wide open now, studying the strange face that was above him.

"Is your kid making up his mind about whether or not he likes me?" Caleb asked.

"He's gonna love you," Mike assured him.

Tiger came tearing through the room at that moment, cutting off whatever Caleb might have said in return, with a barking Noah behind her.

"You're _sure_ you don't mind them staying here?"

"That's nothing; they're just getting reacquainted." Mike chuckled. "We can handle those two, can't we, Donny?"

The purple-masked turtle nodded. "Without a doubt. Then you get to move in about two weeks from now?"

"That's the plan. I'm looking forward to it. Chelsea is a good compromise for the dogs, because I'll still have a bit of a yard, and there's a nice park down the street."

"Sounds like it'll be good for them." Donatello was currently scratching Molly's head as she rested it on his knee.

"Of course, they'll have to make field trips down here with me. They're going to need their 'turtle fix' as much as I do," Caleb told him.

Nathaniel made a disgruntled face as he suddenly squirmed in Caleb's arms.

"He's hungry," Becky spoke up.

Caleb offered the baby back to Mike. "I'll let the experts handle this. Besides, I think I need to see a certain lab I've heard a lot about."

Don smiled shyly. "C'mon, Caleb. I'll give you the grand tour."

Mike rubbed his hand against Nate's shell as he watched the pair adjourn to the connected lab, then he followed Rebecca into the kitchen. His eyes lingered on her figure as she reached into the fridge for another bottle. The pregnancy had taken a noticeable toll on her body, but the young woman had never looked happier.

When she turned around, Rebecca caught him staring. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"I just don't know how I ended up with you," he admitted. "Sometimes I have to remind myself that this isn't a dream."

Rebecca nodded. "I never realized how much I'd love this, Mike. I can't picture not having Nate…and I'm glad I don't have to live in a world that doesn't include _you_."

Mike held out an arm to gather in his young wife, and clutched Nathaniel protectively in between them. "I don't ever want to take any of this for granted. If I ever start to, smack me over the head, okay?"

Rebecca giggled. "I may have to hire Jenna for that responsibility."


	99. Fury

***Okay. If you're one of those people who loves a happy ending, and ONLY a happy ending, then for all intents and purposes, Chapter 98 was it. I hope you enjoyed it. If you don't want to get caught up in the drama and violence of the fic that will follow Refuge, do not proceed, do not pass "Go", turn back now while you still have a chance. You think I'm kidding, don't you? ::Sigh:: You'll learn.**

* * *

><p>Donatello was enjoying a semi-normal evening around the Den, which felt quieter now that Olivia and Nate had gone to bed. There had been plenty of discussion over the possibility of a movie, but a group consensus hadn't been reached. For once, the purple-masked turtle didn't care what they watched; he was simply enjoying the calm of the last night they would have with Brandon for a few weeks.<p>

Greg was already on assignment in the field, and Director Kelley had approved the request to send Brandon to join him. The man was supposed to be on a red-eye flight that evening, but the plane had been delayed, and was in danger of being canceled altogether.

Brandon was resting in what was widely known as Raphael's favorite chair with his hands behind his head, looking like he was about to fall asleep.

"Uh, dude?" Mike called. "How are you gonna know if your plane shows up or not?"

"I'm supposed to get a text alert and an arrival time," he replied without opening his eyes. "I'm almost completely packed, and it won't take me long to get to the airport. I just don't want to sit in a terminal all night for nothing."

"Why can't they cancel the flight and be done with it?" Raphael wondered, as he walked into the room from the hallway. "If you think you're gonna spend the night in my chair, you're dead wrong, Bran."

"They think the weather is going to blow over in Texas, which is where my plane is coming from." Brandon shrugged. "I just want to make sure I get to Port Royal in time, so I'm not in danger of missing the boat entirely. If a plane arrives at any point tonight, I'm going to be on it."

Raphael smirked as he rested his arms on the back of the chair. "This is a nice step for you, huh, man? Out of the little leagues, and into the big time. Are you ready for this?"

Brandon snorted. "After the things I've already done with all of you, the reconnaissance will probably be a cake walk. I know Greg was excited about getting back out there. I think he missed the field more than he was letting on."

"Make sure you watch his back." Mike snickered. "Kat was always the karate kid of that pairing."

Brandon gave the orange-masked turtle a pained look. "It's called Taekwondo, Mikey. Respect the skills."

"I do, Bran, I do." Michelangelo grinned. "You're getting closer to taking Raphy down."

Raphael laughed out loud. "That day has yet to come."

"I keep warning you not to gloat about that," Brandon said. "Because it _will _come, and you're never going to hear the end of it."

"Yeah, okay, Bran." Raphael slammed the back of the chair hard enough that the man jerked and nearly fell.

"Take it easy, turtle," Brandon said warningly. "You're gonna push me too far one of these days."

"Neither of us is made of glass, so I'm not too worried." Raphael circled around the chair and slumped down on the couch beside Donatello. "Have we picked a movie or what?"

"No, because no one wants to agree on anything," Bran complained.

"That's not true," Don countered. "I said I didn't care what we watched. When the girls arrive, maybe we'll get somewhere."

The man grinned. "You'd think you guys never made a decision for yourselves."

Leonardo walked into the room, acknowledging everyone with a nod. "Hey, guys. Calley said they won't be long now. They need us to preheat the oven—"

Mike jumped up before Leo could finish. "I got it, Bro. What temperature did she ask for?"

"You're not _seriously_ afraid to let me turn on the oven, are you?"

Mike laughed under his breath, though it appeared he was trying to control it. "You've got the magic touch, Leo."

"I'm getting a little sick of these jokes…" The blue-masked turtle's complaint dropped off as he and Michelangelo went into the kitchen.

Raphael rested both feet on the coffee table, grinning when Donatello gave him a questioning glance. "What? I can't relax my way?"

"Just don't let Karina catch you with your feet up there," Don reminded him.

Brandon laughed. "My sister has got some kind of power over you, huh, Raph?"

"Yeah, maybe she could give you some pointers in actually beating me in a spar," he shot back.

"That's starting to feel like a challenge, Raph." Brandon sat up further. "You wanna go again right now?"

"Only 'cause it would get you outta my chair."

Donny shook his head with a smile. "It's going to be quieter around here without you and Greg, Bran."

"With the new baby, Olivia, and the border collies? You won't even notice we're gone," Brandon scoffed.

"That isn't true," Don insisted. "We always notice when someone's missing."

"That's right," Raphael affirmed. "Especially if it happens to be my favorite punching bag."

"Aw, really, Raph? I would have thought that Mike held that title."

"Okay. You're my favorite _human_ punching bag."

"Thanks for clarifying."

Donatello jolted as a commotion erupted behind the couch, and Tiger suddenly leaped onto the back of the furniture. The orange and white cat sprinted over the coffee table, and bolted inside the partially open door to Donatello's lab, fleeing from the pursing border collies.

Raphael caught Noah by the collar and dragged him backwards. "I wonder if they'll ever figure out that Tiger doesn't like this game as much as they do."

Molly slipped past Donatello before he could capture her, racing after Tiger into the lab. At the report of a minor crash, the purple-masked turtle winced.

"Why _was_ that door open?" Don asked.

Brandon averted his eyes guiltily. "Mike and I may have been searching for batteries."

Donatello started into the room, hitting the light switch as Brandon followed closely behind. Don found a desk chair knocked over, and a couple of file folders that had been on his desk were now strewn across the floor. "Well…it could have been worse."

"Geesh, I'm sorry, Donny. Let me get them out of here, and I'll help you pick up this stuff."

Brandon shooed the cat and dog out of the room as Donatello picked up his desk chair. He was on his knees sorting through various papers when the man returned to help. His friend got down on the floor beside him, and began straightening debris.

"I've got this under control, Bran. You really don't need to worry about it."

"Nah, they wouldn't have gotten in here if some blockhead hadn't left the door open."

"No harm done," Donny assured him.

They made quick work of picking up the papers, with Brandon handing files to Donatello to put back in their proper folders. As the man reached for another stack, he strangely froze. Brandon had been staring down at a piece of paper in his hands for a few seconds when Donatello cleared his throat.

"Uh, Bran? Is something wrong?"

The man looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and anger warring for supremacy in his golden-brown eyes. "Donatello, what is this?"

"What's _what_? You have to let me see it."

Brandon snapped the paper toward him, and it turned out to be a copy of the driver's license that was connected to the social security number Katherine had asked Donny to research. Don swallowed as the face of Carl James stared back at him mockingly.

"It's your dad, Brandon."

"I can _see_ that," he said sharply. "Why do you have this?" The man sorted through the rest of the pile in front of him, his breath quickening as he discovered more of Donatello's research.

"Brandon, I was…I was just trying to find him for you."

"You had no right," he said in a low voice.

As the man stalked out of the room, Donatello rapidly pursued him. "Bran, wait! Let me explain, okay?"

Brandon spun around to face him, and Donny saw a very confused Raphael in the man's wake. "_Explain_, Donatello. I'd love to hear your reasoning behind this."

The red-masked turtle leaped to his feet. "What the _shell_ is up, you two?"

"Ask your brother," Brandon said tersely.

"I'm _trying_ to tell you." Don struggled to keep his voice even.

"How long has this been going on?" Brandon's gaze could have burned right through him.

"Not that long. It's only been about three months since I started—"

"_Only_ three months? Why, Donatello? Why are you going _looking_ for trouble?"

"I wasn't trying to hurt anyone," he said carefully. "I wanted to help, Bran. It isn't as if I turned your father in or tried to contact him. I've just been researching some leads and following a few rabbit trails across the states of Florida and Louisiana."

"I don't _want_ your help with this!" Brandon still sounded like he was at his boiling point. "You can't fix everything, Donny! Some things are better off left alone, but no…You had to go and stir it up again."

Brandon's volume had succeeded in drawing Leonardo and Michelangelo out of the kitchen, and they became confused spectators of the conversation too.

"Brandon, I'm sorry," Don said with genuine remorse, hoping to defuse the man. "I didn't mean to make trouble or upset anyone."

"Why couldn't you come to me? Why did you have to do it behind my back?"

"I was going to come to you, when I had something definitive to offer on his current location. I've been chasing the shadow of two different identities, and it's been complicated. I wanted to nail him for certain before I brought this to you," Don replied. _I should be bringing Kat into this, but I can't yet. Not with him in this frame of mind. Besides, she didn't twist my arm to _make_ me do anything._

"Why would you think I'd want anything to do with him?" Brandon demanded furiously, with a tone that had Donatello glancing nervously toward the stairs that led to the sleeping baby turtles.

"Bran, take it easy, huh?" Mike said calmly. "We're all buds here, no reason we can't work out whatever this is."

Brandon shook his head. "You didn't tell _anyone_, did you?"

"He didn't tell—"Leonardo didn't get to finish before he was interrupted.

"He went searching for my dad!" Brandon fixed Donatello with another cold look. "He's never done any good for my family, and you have the audacity to go looking for him without saying a word to us?"

Brandon was mid-sentence when the door to the Den opened, and the four young women joined the tense stand-off in the living area, loaded down with shopping bags. Karina was the only one who dared to advance.

"Brandon, what's going on? Why are you so upset?" she asked.

The man heatedly rattled off a couple of sentences in Spanish. Don had picked up a little of the language over the years of knowing Karina, but Bran's rate of speed was too fast for him to decipher his speech.

Karina looked taken aback at first, then shook her head and responded in Spanish to him. The young woman looked questioningly at Donatello, but he saw no anger in her eyes, only bewilderment.

"Bran, Karina didn't have anything to do with this!" Don blurted out, though he had no idea what either of them were saying. "She didn't know about it either."

"Why am I even surprised?" The man barely looked at him when he spoke this time. "I don't know _what _was going through your head, Donatello, but I have two words for you: _butt out_. If you want to make me happy, then stay the hell out of it!"

The women parted for Brandon to get through as he stormed out the door. Donny's first inclination was to go after him, but Karina stepped in front of the turtle.

"No, Donny, don't. You can't reason with him in this frame of mind – take it from someone who knows."

"Am I the only one in the dark right now?" Jenna raised her hand. "What on God's green earth just happened?"

Karina looked at Donatello steadily. "You were looking for our father? What brought this on, Donny?"

The purple-masked turtle shifted awkwardly under the scrutiny of everyone in the room. "Kat…came to me a few months ago, right around Christmas. She asked me for help in locating him. That's it. When I had him targeted, she was going to present options to you and Bran."

Karina looked even more confused. "You didn't even bring Kat up, did you?"

"No. He was so angry…I didn't want to make it worse. I'm sorry, Karina, guys. I made the wrong decision, and now I've got to fix it somehow."


	100. Departures

***We're here! Do you believe after all that, we've finally made it to the end of Refuge...and the beginning of something far more sinister.**

**Many thanks go out to my lovely betas, Mikell and sait4soreeyes. Thanks for taking the time to help me ladies, and improving upon the product in hand. :)**

**Thanks to the readers too, for making this such an enjoyable experience for me. Refuge will probably always hold a special place in my heart, and I'm glad others could enjoy it. On that note, let's get back to the ending.**

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><p>Brandon slammed the door of the apartment that he and Greg shared much more forcefully than necessary. He had burned the entire way home, but the fire didn't feel like it was close to going out yet.<p>

_Why would Donny do things this way? It doesn't even make sense! If he'd had the decency to talk to me about it, maybe it wouldn't irk me so much that he was screwing around where he didn't belong._

He paced the length of the apartment, trying to vent off the fury that seemed to be coming in waves. Every time one set died down, another cluster of irritation was set up in its place. Brandon gazed at the plaster, seriously considering putting his fist through it the way he'd seen Raphael do a number of times.

_No, it doesn't work if you have to _think_ about it, and I'd just have to fix it anyway, _he thought ironically, and settled for resting his forehead against the cool wall. _Maybe I should get out of here, call it a night and head for the airport. Whether that plane comes in one hour or ten, they have to get something else scheduled, and I don't feel like ranting alone in this apartment._

Brandon ducked into the bathroom to pick up his last minute toiletries, glad for the small distraction from the torrent of emotions running through his mind. He carried the handful of items to his room, and took painstaking care to pack everything into the open suitcase waiting on his chair.

The lone bag was ready to go and there was nothing left tying him to the apartment. Brandon's intention had been to leave, but instead, he found himself hesitating. The initial anger was melting into sorrow, a powerful sadness he hadn't _allowed_ himself to feel for years. He sank onto the end of his bed, contemplating the feelings that were assailing him.

_My God…this isn't even about Donny. It doesn't have anything to do with him. It goes back to my dad, all the anger, all of the hurt. It's because of _him_. _Brandon sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes tiredly. _I missed something here. Going after my dad completely unprovoked…that doesn't even sound like something Don would do. There has to be some other reason. Why couldn't I see it back there?_

Brandon dropped flatly onto his mattress in frustration, allowing the quiet have precedence over his mind. Now that the raging waters were calming down, regret was overwhelming him. The man turned on his side to look at the red numbers of the digital clock, and watched several minutes pass without moving.

_I can't leave things off this way with Donny, _he told himself finally. Brandon sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. _I've got to call him._ He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, and was confused when he didn't find it. _Oh shoot…what did I do with it?_

He heaved a tremendous sigh as he checked his other pocket, then reached for the light jacket he'd been wearing earlier that evening, which was now on top of the suitcase. Brandon found his keys inside, but when he searched through the pockets thoroughly, he still couldn't find any sign of the cell phone.

"Darn it, what did I _do_?" he asked aloud. "When did I use it last?"

As he stood facing the suitcase and considering the mystery, Brandon was surprised to be suddenly captured by strong arms from behind. A cry began to erupt right before an iron hand clapped over his mouth. When the initial shock had passed, his first thought was to roll his eyes and curse Raphael's name for kidnapping him a second time.

When he looked down, however, he recognized that the hand covering his mouth was _human_. The realization spurred panic back to the surface, and Brandon immediately began fighting the grasp of the men who were holding him down. He may as well have been beating the air.

Brandon jerked his head around to try and break the grip of the hand muffling him, to make any sound that someone else could hear. The tip of two fingers levered against a pressure point on his neck, temporarily breaking off the struggle he was trying to mount. The hand over his mouth was exerting so much strength, it was cutting off his air supply, and all he could manage were shallow breaths through his nose that felt nowhere near adequate.

A sharp voice uttered something behind his back that he couldn't understand, but it reminded him of _Japanese_. A deeper voice answered, and Brandon caught the flicker of a shadow out of the corner of his vision as someone strode in front of him.

He stared dumbfounded at the familiar form of the beastly man before him, now convinced that he _had_ to be dreaming. One of the individuals behind him spoke in Japanese again, his tone questioning. Daichi nodded at Brandon with a smug smile, and returned with what sounded like an affirmation.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up, _he commanded himself inwardly to no avail.

Daichi's meaty hand fingered Brandon's chin, and he felt like his skin was crawling with disgust. The Asian man made disturbing eye contact with him, gloating, spiteful. Daichi pronounced two more short words, and Brandon had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He saw the man's fist as it shot toward him, but it became a blur as it collided with his chin like a bulldozer, and he knew nothing more.

* * *

><p>Raphael cast an unhappy glance at his purple-masked brother, who was still gripping his phone.<p>

"It was worth a shot I guess," Don said hoarsely. "I really thought he might pick up. I mean, he's leaving the country. We don't even know when he and Greg will be coming back. I messed this up so badly."

"You shouldn't have kept it from him, Genius," Raphael acknowledged. "But just the same, we all know you weren't trying to hurt anybody. Even Bran knows that. Give him a chance to chill out, and everything will be okay. You know how Brandon is. He gets mad, he blows up, and he gets over it.

Donatello nodded regretfully. "I sure put a damper on things tonight."

"Don, it's _gonna_ be all right," Raph insisted. "Bran's like a brother to all of us; he's not gonna up and quit the family over this. If he doesn't answer the phone, then he doesn't answer it. Let him be, and when he's ready he'll come to you." _Or I'll arrange a meeting myself if it's necessary_, he added inwardly.

He didn't feel like Leonardo was being particularly useful at the moment. The oldest turtle had been sitting in a contemplative silence on the opposite end of the couch from Donny, as if pondering the vastness of the cosmos. _Shell, Leo needs to say _something_. This royally bites. I wish Bran could have stuck it out and let him and Donny work through this. Nobody likes it when there's fighting going on._

Michelangelo had long ago retreated upstairs with Becky. The orange-masked turtle had hesitated, but it was Donny who'd pushed him to go, citing their youngest brother's need to sleep while the baby was quiet. The other three turtles had been left alone in the living area, and Raphael felt like he was running out of things to say to Donatello.

"Hey, Fearless, feel free to chime in here at any time," Raphael finally said.

The blue-masked turtle glanced at Raphael, before settling on Donny. "Brandon had a right to be upset," he said softly. "But I don't think he's really this mad at _you_, Don. I think he's dealing with a lot of stuff over his dad that he hasn't bothered with in the past, and you only succeeded in stirring it back up."

"I know I was wrong," Don replied. "I'll tell him that as many times as he needs to hear it, but he's got to give me the chance."

Leonardo withdrew his phone. "I'll try him again, Don. The worst thing that can happen is that he won't answer."

Raphael got up to stretch his legs from the recliner as Leo dialed the number. As the red-masked turtle flexed his calves, he suddenly picked up on a quiet sound coming from behind him. His brow furrowed as he turned to face the chair, bending down in search of the noise. As Leonardo hung up the phone and the sound ceased, something instantly occurred to him.

"Call it again, Leo."

"I just tried him, Raph."

"Call it _again_," he repeated more strongly.

Raphael felt down inside the chair as Leonardo hit the speed dial once more, and his fingers closed around the device. He came up triumphantly with Brandon's cell phone.

"Aw, _shell,_" Leo said, annoyed. "That's great."

Raphael looked at his watch, and saw that it was close to 11pm. "We might be able to catch him, Leo. With the way his plane was delayed, he's probably still at the apartment."

Leonardo nodded. "Someone should go, I agree. We probably don't need to make it a family affair though."

* * *

><p>Daichi was more than a little pleased with himself. He had tracked down the cursed American agent under his own initiative, without Yukiko's knowledge or approval. The Asian woman was still 7600 miles away, and unable to control him during the tedious task she'd given him to carry out on American soil.<p>

_Rounding up the stinking leftovers from our last trip to the States, those _stupid_ enough to allow themselves to be caught by the police. I know she only wanted me to be out of the way before the plan for Takashi is implemented. Yukiko has always been power hungry. She cannot bear to share authority with anyone else. I am going to prove to Takashi-sama that I am worthy of his respect, once and for all._

Tracking Greg Heffernan down to the apartment had been too simple for words, and the worthless task Yukiko had provided for him also gave Daichi several pairs of hands at his disposal. _And these men follow me. They respect _me_, _he thought with pride.

Though the American FBI agent had been the original target, taking Brandon James suited his purpose too. Getting a shot at the other man who'd taken part in the assault of their fortress on Yonaguni was just as pleasurable for Daichi.

He'd wanted to strangle Brandon with his bare hands, but he resigned himself to taking the man alive. _He is no good to me dead, _he reasoned_. It would be satisfying, no doubt, but his informational value is too great to kill him._

Brandon was contained elsewhere, and the belongings he'd packed had been taken with them. Daichi's intention was to leave the apartment untouched, without anything that would draw suspicion on the kidnapping that had taken place.

He was still lingering on the roof of the building even now, waiting on the clean-up crew that was sweeping the apartment. Daichi also wanted to keep an eye out for anyone who could possibly be coming. _We were quiet enough that no one should have heard us, but I am not taking any chances. Takashi would never relegate himself to this type of duty, nor would Yukiko. _I_ will do what must be done, and I have no shame in serving alongside my men._

Daichi's phone buzzed on his side, drawing him out of thought. "_Taidan_," he answered smoothly.

"_Daichi-san, forgive the interruption, but I believe we have a visitor heading our direction."_

Daichi glanced at the building across from him, where he knew Jiro was watching from a higher vantage point. "_Do you see signs of the police already, Jiro? I have not heard a thing from here."_

"_No, Daichi-san, not police. I am speaking of _another_ type of visitor, the kind who uses the city heights in the same manner that we do."_

A gasp caught in Daichi's chest. "_Shitenno? Are you certain_?"

"_I have never seen another creature move the way that they do. I am quite sure_."

"_How many? Do you believe there is only the one?"_

Jiro hesitated on the other end. "_I have seen no others – I cannot even see _him_ very well, except for the glasses that are tracking his movement. Whoever it is, he is coming this way quickly_."

"_Keep an eye on him, do _not_ lose him_," Daichi barked, a thrill coursing through his veins. "_Hold your position, and I will tell you when to move_."

The Asian man hung up the phone and glanced at the three men who'd gathered up behind him expectantly. "_It appears one of the Shitenno has decided to honor us with his presence. I think we ought to extend an invitation for him to join James. We must be quick and we must be _quiet_. I doubt that we will get another chance at this_."

Daichi led the way over the side of the building, dropping onto the fire escape to get back to the apartment, where they could lay in wait for the demon. He fingered his taser with anticipation, smiling grimly.

_This time, it will be different. This time I will get the drop on him, and _prove_ to Takashi-sama my usefulness. Tonight will change everything._

To Be Continued...

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><p><strong>*Hey, no fair getting mad at me! I warned you, didn't I? Of all the cliffies I've ever written, I have to admit that I consider this one to be the worst. The good news: I've been working like a <em>fiend<em> behind the scenes to write Watchmen. As of today, I have 70 chapters written. My goal is to start posting at the beginning of October. So that means you've got to hang in there for one month - ONLY one month, before finding out what happens next. That's the best I can do, people, so take it or leave it. ;) Until then...live in fear of Watchmen.**


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